Golden Delicious
by Wolfling72
Summary: Sweet, slow burn VeelaDraco story set in the seventh year so completely ignores the end of HBP and all of DH. AU and, for the most part, OOC. There will be cake, I think. Possibly cookies. And kisses. Laughter. Drama. Possibly some lemons but not smutty. (Side pairings of note: TN/LL, GW/BZ with a possible peek at HP/DG)
1. Prologue

Prologue: Bad News 6/2/97

 _'Shit!'_

Things had been going so well, too, School was almost over for the summer, he turned seventeen in three days time and The Golden Twats had not been to school in a few months, off doing who knows what for old Dumbledweeb. Things were great. Well, if one did not count old snake eyes visiting the Manor whenever he wanted or the wedding contract that he would have to honor before he turned twenty-one. He had time now, time to sow his oats (well more oats than he'd sowed in the last few years, which all things considered had been prodigious) before finally settling down to the sort of life he'd always thought he'd have.

HA!

"Explain, mother, as I find myself very confused by this new...information," Draco said because demanded sounded so crude. He schooled his features into a mask as he had been raised to do; showing emotion was for assholes and quite frankly, he was too shocked.

Narcissa looked at her son, her gaze filled with remorse and concern though one would have to be looking into her eyes to note such things. Her own features; haughty yet ethereal, showed no more emotion than her son's. With a quiet sigh, the beautiful blonde shifted against the wing-backed chair located in her east wing sitting room and once again reiterated the information she'd just finished sharing.

"As I have already stated, on your seventeenth birthday, you may experience some changes. The Malfoy line has intermingled with Veela females quite a few times and therefore is not as pure as your father claimed," she huffed a sigh. "Since there hasn't been a Malfoy female in a few centuries, your father and I assumed that the Veela gene had died out, however that does not seem to be the case."

"And you know this how, mother?" The words were precise, clipped, losing the faint aristocratic drawl most heard.

"Your eating habits have changed. Foods that you enjoyed last year now cause you to wrinkle your nose in distaste, from either the scent or the texture. You've also had quite a few headaches which have lasted longer each time. The most compelling evidence is the way that you look. You've gained in height and weight, your complexion has a healthy glow, and your eyes shift from lightest gray to black, depending upon your mood."

Draco nodded, slowly, a frown marring his patrician features, as he turned his eyes toward a large fireplace located just to the left of the seating area. He watched the fire with a pensive expression before he turned to look at his mother, once more.

"So what does this mean for me?"

"For one, the marriage to Miss Greengrass can't be allowed to occur as you will have only a few years to find, woo, mark and bind, your mate." She forestalled his outburst with a slender hand. "If you are already exhibiting characteristics then it is certain that you WILL have a mate and since that IS the case, getting involved with the Greengrasses does not make sense. After all, if either Greengrass girl was to be your mate, you would have been inexplicably drawn to one of them for years, even without the change."

She paused, her gaze flicking toward his face and then back to her lap. "The most important thing is that unless you find your mate at Hogwarts in your seventh year, you will be visited with dreams starting on your eighteenth birthday directing you toward your future beloved. I will tell you that the Veela cares nothing for blood purity nor propriety and if you meet your mate but refuse to acknowledge her, you will die on your nineteenth birthday."

Draco blinked and blinked again because FUCK! What was scary was the fact that if he were to have a mate attending Hogwarts? He had already met and hated her. Inexplicable drawing anyone? Yeah, he had that, in spades. How else could one explain his need to compete with, complain about and utterly loathe~ to the point of distraction, no less~someone who was so far beneath him?

 _'Please don't let be her. Please don't let it be her!'_

However, fate seemed to hate him because his mother spoke, once more.

"If I were you? I'd start by looking at that muggle-born, Miss Granger. You will know if she is the one because her scent will beckon to you. If it is not, then expand your search, methodically."

 _'Fuck!'_

He had to say something. He was sure his mother was right and oh, did it suck.

"Yes, mother."

Guess it was good that his father had been killed during the Ministry debacle. Otherwise, if Granger was his mate, Draco would have been as good as dead. Lucius would have killed him.

 _'Bloody Hell! Guess I will just have to wait until school starts again.'_


	2. Summer of Dreamscapes

Hermione was dreaming, again.

 _Pretty gray eyes, and platinum hair, long and silky, tossed on a breeze that could not be felt, only seen in it's passing. He stalked her, moving with a combination both animalistic and sensual. She tried to back away but he just kept coming on...a locomotive._

 _"Malfoy, what are you doing?"_

 _He did not respond with words, instead, there was a quiet rumbling, a purr? And his eyes darkened~ charcoal gray and then black, so black, like being swallowed alive._

 _Her back hit a tree trunk and it was only then that she noticed that they were in the Forbidden Forest, deep inside, where the centaurs hunted and watched the stars, there to learn the movements that ruled their world. Her hands scrabbled then, trying to bury themselves against the rough bark and she waited because she could not move._

The wild-haired young woman sat up, her heartbeat an erratic counterpoint to her breathing. She did not understand why Malfoy seemed to be invading her dreams every night and had been since the very beginning of summer~ while she, Harry and Ron had searched for Horcruxes, finding five and knowing that Nagini and Harry himself were the last pieces of the puzzle. That final knowledge had broken the three, surrounded them with an unfathomable weight. And yet~

And yet, it seemed that the female of the trio was more haunted by her dreams than the thought of her best friend, her brother, dying. That was not okay. It was beyond sacrilege and she loathed herself and dream Malfoy for making it so. If she just had a reason for it, she'd be able to relax and put her energy into what mattered but life never does what its supposed to. At least, that's what it felt like to her.

By the middle of August, Voldemort had been defeated and finally, the trio could relax. That did not mean they would. After all, Harry and Ron had both been offered Auror positions after that snake had been brought to heel. Hermione had also been offered a job but she'd decided instead to return for her last year at Hogwarts as Dumbledore had told her that he was sure the missing months of their travail would not affect her overall grades and knowledge, as long as she was able to tackle her missed lessons as well as the new year.

It would mean missed Hogsmeade weekends and an additional two hours of work every night but she was sure that she'd be able to handle it and so, come September first, the Golden Trio would be broken by distance and circumstance. If she were to be honest with herself? She felt the change would do them all some good. Hogwarts would allow her to pull back from the pain of losses and renew her spirit.

 _'And maybe work out these dreams because I can't take any more!'_

By the last day of August, her trunk was packed, her outfit was picked out and her hair had been straightened so that it hung down to her waist in a stream of mocha, honey, and amber. Ron was not a fan of the baby tee, tight jeans and blinding white sneakers she'd slipped into the morning of September first. In fact, he protested loudly, his bright blue eyes mere slits of pouty anger.

"You are not my boyfriend anymore, Ronald! You decided that our lack of sexual congress made me undesirable and quite frankly, in my opinion, if you'd EVER loved me, you would have been willing to wait. Instead, you went to the nearest wet hole and utterly disrespected me!"

By then her body was vibrating with repressed magic and rage. Her long hair streamed in an unseen wind and her brown eyes had shifted toward a dark chocolate hue. Ron, at that point, slammed his mouth shut and backed up, his hands raised in supplication even as words of apology fell with a quickness from his mouth while Harry laughed, his breath hitching in amusement.

"Sorry, 'Mione. I-I-I wasn't thinking. You look good, great in fact." A pause. "Please don't kill me!"

"My name is Hermione. USE it!" she all but screamed before drawing in a deep breath to calm and center herself.

"Now, if you are done being a total wanker, would you like to come with me to the Express to see me off," she queried as her gaze meandered from one young man to the other.

It was then that Harry interceded, his voice recovered from his bout of laughter, "Hermione, you know I am going anyway. Gotta see Ginny off, don't I?"

Ron quickly nodded an agreement even as his eyes glanced at the stairs as Ginny appeared, her own trunk levitated behind her. Of course, she'd heard the ruckus but she hadn't added anything to proceedings, which was unusual. She had known that Ron had stepped out on Hermione, more than once, and she felt that her brother deserved every harsh word. Plus, when Hermione was riled up, there was no-one in the entire Burrow that could take her in a duel. Everyone knew it.

Harry glanced at his girlfriend and reached for her hand. "So are we ready?"

By the time they'd run through the wall that separated platforms nine from ten, Hermione and Ginny were happily chatting away. The boys could hear giggles and murmurs but neither chose to interrupt, understanding that the girls were ecstatic about their return. Only an asshole would begrudge them after the last few months. The foursome paused at the milling crowd before them, even as trunks were levitated and put away by the porters. Eventually, hugs were given and received with the addition of Harry's kiss for his girl.

"Come on Ginny!"

Hermione had not thought that she was tired. She'd had plenty of rest the night before. However, once she'd found an empty car and settled down, her eyes had closed of their own volition. She should not have taken a nap, but her body said she was sleepy and so the dream came, yet again.

 _The woods again._ Vast _canopy of trees and sounds of things_ rustling _the underbrush, a dare for the ear. She glanced left, heart hammering, hammering, breath unable to be fully taken because he was here._

 _Somewhere._

 _"Why do you run? I can smell you. I know you are nearby."_

 _His voice. Beckoning, cajoling, heady with desire. was that longing? She shifts, small feet turning, diminutive frame thrumming with energy but, but, but... He finds her._

"Shit!"


	3. Smells Like

**A/N: I warned from the outset that this story would be fairly OOC and not follow the last few books of the Harry Potter series. Trust me when I tell you that this will only get worse. You've been warned!**

 **Disclaimer~JK Rowling is a Goddess and I own diddly squat when it comes to the characters and settings of Harry Potter. I only borrowed the sandbox to play in it and I make no money from doing so.**

Life had just started to make sense again. Old Snake Eyes was dead and gone all thanks to The-Pain-In-The-Arse-Who-Would-Not-Die, Swotty McSwotterson and Weaselbee, sidekick extraordinaire. So, this should have been a triumphant return, a chance to blow off steam. His last hoorah. Nope. Not a bit of it because he had sensed something on the wind. What was it?

Oh.

He had caught a scent; fresh apples, lilac, and wood smoke~ almost as soon as he entered the train. Something within sat up and took notice so that his gaze wandered from place to place, soon to be followed by the slim lines of his body. Of course, his heightened sense of smell also took in other olfactory information but it was that first scent which drove him until he stopped in front of a car and opened the door. The scent of HER roiled forth and enveloped him.

Gray eyes landed upon Hermione Granger even as a voice, his own but different announced, _"She is meant for us."_ He knew it. He would have to try and woo her, explain about his Veela inheritance. There was no way to deny her, even if he wanted to. After all, if he chose to ignore it, he'd die. For all he knew, he'd die even if she knew and just chose to turn him down. _'She won't, she dreams of us already. '_

"Granger," He spoke, his voice a seductive purr, "I didn't think your bodyguards would allow you to return without them. Have they lost interest?"

"Fuck off, Malfoy. Though, as I am sure you will remember, I don't need bodyguards. I do enough damage all on my lonesome." was her reply, still husky from her impromptu nap.

"Granger, if I'd have been one of them, I would not have allowed it,"

"Allowed it? Are you insane? Like I would even give you chance to offer your opinion!"

Again, dark brown and gray eyes battled or at least Hermione's did. Malfoy's gaze did something else, all together. With no thought, almost as if his higher functions had shut down, the ex Slytherin Seeker stepped forward and closed the door behind him all while he sniffed the air delicately, his head cocked almost birdlike, to the side. The expression on his face was almost obscenely blissful.

"You smell...delicious," he all but purred, his voice a rasp. "Makes me want to bite you."

By this time, Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest. This Malfoy reminded her of her dreams and she longed to run from him but it was far too late. There was no way to avoid him; his lean frame blocked the exit and invaded her personal space. If she tried to get past him, he could easily snatch her up. _'I don't think he will though.'_ The thought skittered through her brain as she took in the tilted head, the slow beats, the clench of his long fingers as if he were fighting for restraint. _'Maybe.'_

"Malfoy, back up. Your nose is taking up all the oxygen and I would like to breathe."

Draco smiled and then frowned as the door was slid open and a voice he'd rather not have heard broke the temporary silence.

"Drake, what are you doing with her?"

 _'Fuck, it's Pansy.'_ He shuddered slightly before he forced himself to turn away from the woman who probably held his life in her hands.

"I was talking to Granger, obviously. Gods, Pans, get a grip on yourself."

Pamsy smirked and replied, her voice a seductive growl. "I would rather get a grip on you. C'mon Drake. Let's go to the Slytherin cars. You know, so we can reacquaint ourselves in a more pleasant fashion."

Draco nodded before he turned back to Hermione. "Tell me, Granger, had any good dreams lately?"

With that, he swept back out, blank Malfoy expression firmly in place as Pansy attached herself to his side like a pug-nosed limpet. Hermione sat there, her gaze wide and unfocused as his last remark hit home? Did he know? How? Sporadic thoughts ran through her head, a merry go round of words and emotions.

 _'What's up with him?'_

Luckily for her, it was then that Ginny, Neville, Dean, and Luna entered. She greeted them all with a wide smile and pushed all thoughts of Malfoy's odd behavior to the back of her mind. He was not going to interrupt her daytimes like he did her nights. She refused to let it happen, no matter how amazingly attractive she thought he looked.

 _'Dammit.'_

The rest of the journey to the Scottish castle seemed to take forever as Hermione wrestled with the feelings Draco's words and presence had caused. She felt unsure, her insides uneasy almost nauseous. However, she hid it well, focused on her returned friends, the feast and the sorting with something akin to glee, at least until the announcements.

Hermione and Draco had been named Head girl and boy, respectively, but with the honor came much work. Since the Head suites were located in different areas of the castle (Gryffindor's tower and Slytherin's dungeon) a new room had been set aside specifically for House Prefect and Head business. Located as it was near the library, it was easy enough for the young people to get to and was rarely busy, barring meetings and roster checks. It was for that very reason that Hermione chose to take her free periods there. The silence was a blessing. The fact that she very rarely ran into Malfoy was only an added benefit.

However, she knew it wouldn't last long.

One day, near the end of September, as she hurried to Double Potions (and the unutterable boredom of Slughorn) from Advanced Transfigurations she literally ran into the blond male as she turned the corner. Of course, she bounced off of him and landed with a grunt of pain as her bum met the hardness of the floor.

"Ouch, dammit!"

Wide brown eyes searched the ground for her bag. However, a large, pale hand got to it first.

"I have it, Hermione. You need some help up?"

His voice was seductive, a low growl with just the perfect amount of drawl. Hermione grasped his hand without a thought and allowed him to haul her to her feet. The strength of his tug caused her to stumble into his chest once again and before she could blink, his hand had released hers only to slip down her arm and around her waist, holding her so that she was pressed tightly against his long, lean form. Her mouth opened in a sort of squeak, and she felt his laughter long before she heard it.

"Let go, Dra-um Malfoy.."

"Not until you say my given name, Hermione," his words held an odd double timbre as if there were two throats saying the same words

"D-Draco, please release me," the young woman implored.

"See, that wasn't so hard."

The tall blond stepped back from her and held her bag out. "I do hope to run into you again, Hermione. I'd hate to think that there will be other men who get to see you on the ground before them. Plus, I should tell you that you smell...delicious."

With that, he stepped past her and continued on his way.

 _'What in the hell? Did he just call me Hermione?'_


	4. Crazy Things (Mid October)

**A/N: Woot! Hey, a review! Thank you slytherinxbadxgirl (Do you know I have been stalking some of your stories for a while now?) Again~ very OOC, pretty damned AU and I make no money from playing in the Harry Potter sandbox, mkay?**

 _'Oh kitten, look what you've made me do'_

 _The words were soft, spoken just beside her ear, teasing the curls that drifted there. A palm, warm, so warm, drifted from throat to breast, teasing the nipple that hid behind her bra and shirt before slipping downward to cup the swell of her hip._

 _She shuddered._

 _'It won't hurt. I won't let it. I promise. Let me take care of you.'_

 _His words, a tease, a torment, even as her legs shifted. His doing? Her own? Did not matter because he was there, between her splayed thighs, his heat melting her into a boneless mass. His faintly stubbled cheek rasped lightly over her own before she felt the tip of his tongue upon the lobe of her ear._

 _She whimpered._

 _'Shh, little Lion, little cub, my kitten. Shh. It's okay. You are mine.'_

Wide brown eyes flew open, whispered words still singing to her brain. She knew that voice even though the body had not been seen, the eyes not glanced into. She knew him, very well. Draco Malfoy. Why were her dreams so insane? She felt as if she'd been dipped in ice as her flesh pebbled. What was going on?

She needed to find out.

In the Dungeon, in his own room, Malfoy woke up, startled. He'd felt her form beneath him, heard the pounding of her heart. Her slender hands had touched his shoulders, a stroke, just one, but it burned. The dreams should be one-sided, shouldn't they? He did not want to think of her until he had to, not yet. It wasn't fair. She wasn't being fair! He should have had more time.

But he didn't and it ached.

He knew she disliked him, knew that she fancied the Weasel, knew that Potty would throw an absolute bitch kitty of a fit if he even attempted to mark her as his own. 'They are not here.' Draco nodded at the internal the reminder. No, the Gruesome Twosome had not returned which left his mate ripe for the taking.

 _'Don't want to take her,'_ he thought moodily. ' _I don't want her.'_

But it was a lie, one he had told himself countless times since he'd seen her at the Yule Ball. It hadn't been safe to admit his attraction before. It was easier to do so now, yet it did not matter. She would never want him and the thought of it riled something inside. His Veela? Probably. Nothing he could do about it yet.

 _'I need to plan.'_

How does one plan to conquer the unconquerable? A lioness. The Golden Gryffindor Girl? The very lack of information put paid to any sort of planning stages because there was absolutely nothing to go on. He'd watched her for six fucking years and she had always been the know-it-all swot with the big hair, big mouth, and big ideas. He'd never said a kind word to her, not one. True he didn't have any reason to before, but this was a whole new Quidditch match, right?

 _'So, first reconnaissance. Maybe I can get Blaise or Theo to help.'_

Just as he'd finally relaxed enough to sleep, there was a tap on his door. The scent of sandalwood drifted toward him, carried heavily through the still air. Draco knew who it was, even before he called for the twit to enter, after releasing the wards.

"Yeah, Pans?"

"How'd you know it was me, Draco. Did you miss me that much," the semi-attractive dark haired female replied.

"Not so much you but your mouth is worth missing," was the young man's snide response.

"Dammit, Drake, do you have to be so rude?"

' _And there is the screech I love to loathe,'_ Draco thought. _'Why she assumes anything about us is beyond me.'_

"You came to my door, Pans. I didn't come looking for you. What do you want?" He knew he sounded a right git but he did not have it within him to care. Pansy just couldn't leave him alone and he was so tired of telling her no, over and over again.

"I thought it was obvious. I want you," she growled in what she probably considered to be a seductive tone.

He wanted to inform her that her voice still bordered on shrill. He didn't though. Instead, he merely lifted an eyebrow and rejoined with, "I am tired, Pansy. Being head boy is hard work and you know Granger does not allow breaks."

"Why does she even matter? Not getting soft on her, are you? We both know that she is still far beneath our sort."

That remark quickly pissed him off.

"Our sort? Did we not just go through hell for almost two years because of those beliefs, Pans," he snapped. "One would think you'd gotten the memo that those kinds of sentiments are unacceptable." He paused. "Plus it seems to me that she'd destroy you if you ever decided to come for her. You did see her in battle, right?"

Pansy frowned. He could see the way her full bottom lip tucked downward even as her slender arms crossed beneath her breasts, pushing their pillowy softness up so that the nightgown she wore barely contained them. He felt his body respond but willed the quick physical jerk, away. She wasn't for him and there was no point in giving her ideas.

"Why are you being an ass, Drake? I just wanted to catch up."

"I am tired Pans. We can catch up tomorrow."

Pansy did not, could not, understand that whatever she thought would happen between them had now become moot. He held no romantic love for her and hadn't since long before the war. She was his friend, true, and they'd always enjoyed various levels of intimacy but that would never be the case again. However, Draco felt a pang caused by regret and so he held a hand out and waited for her to come closer. Once her small hand was engulfed in his own, he spoke.

"I know that I am behaving in a way that makes you uncomfortable. You are my friend, Pans, one of the few that I consider true. I just," he paused, his hand squeezing hers before he resumed. "What we shared before? It no longer feels right. I just want you to know that I will never forget the way you took care of me and I hope to do the same for you...just without the bedroom being involved. Okay?"

Slender fingers pushed dark hair away from full cheeks and eyes that held the faintest hint of tears. The girl, no the woman, who had always assumed they'd be together felt the death of one of her dreams but, being who she was, she forced a smirk anyway. With a toss of dark hair, she allowed a hint of teasing, a trace of sarcasm, to color her response.

"You'll miss my tits eventually, Drake." She laughed, honest but just a trifle sad. "Until then, we will always be friends. Always."

She leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Draco's forehead before she gave his larger hand a squeeze. Finally, though, she turned away and headed back to his door. She gave a quiet sigh and stepped through before turning back to pull it closed. A smile then and one more quip for the road.

"And if you ever want a decent shag? Just hope I don't have my dance card full!"

Then she was gone.

Draco, for his part, only waved her on, reset his wards and passed easily into sleep.


	5. To The Library-All Hallow's Eve

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters and setting thereof belong to JK Rowling. I just wish I was her. Plus, you know, I make no money from this. I dream about it sometimes but Nah. Still broke!**

Hermione did not get to do any in-depth study concerning her dreams until after her homework (and back work) were finished for the week. (The regular homework was about two weeks ahead of schedule.) So, the following Friday found her hidden in a darkened alcove in the very back of the library, a stack of books balanced on the edge of a nearby table and the arm of her chair which was a deep russet in color and comfortable as all get out.

She had gone through a few books already, reading a chapter here and there before sending them back to their original positions upon the shelves, her forehead marred by little lines of concentration. Nothing, so far, had given her any clear ideas as to just what the dreams meant or why she had been having them for so long. She had searched under spirit travel as well as the mating habits of werewolves, giants, and merpeople but there was NOTHING. It was quite upsetting. She KNEW there was a topic or two missing, however, she couldn't figure out, at first, what they could be.

Of course, she'd flat out ignored Veela, at least to begin with. After all, Malfoy was the epitome of pure-blood arse. Not only that, but Hermione could not recall any mention of a male Veela, EVER. When one thought about it, that lack was pretty stupid. How did Veela babies get made without a male? They didn't, of course, but Hermione absolutely refused to think along those lines until about two hours into her search.

 _'Dammit! There is nothing here! Maybe the restricted section? I've checked everything else except for Veela stuff and I know that Newt Scamander wrote a treatise on Beings after Fantastic Beasts...hmmm.'_

Her thoughts, much like her hair by this point, were all over the place. She knew there had to be SOMETHING and she would be damned if she left without exhausting all avenues of information. To be perfectly frank, since the next day was Saturday, she had nothing that required her attention. She could sleep the day away if she so chose. With these thoughts uppermost, Hermione sent the rest of the books back to their homes and ventured into the Restricted materials.

Long minutes were spent looking at the few Beings shelves hidden in a far left-hand corner but, eventually, she found two books that seemed rather promising: **Giants, Werewolves, and Veelas, Oh My!** (the treatise by Newt Scamander, of course) and **Life In Dreams** (by Sintrella Plantier) Since she understood Newt's way of writing better, the young woman started with his work, just as soon as she'd returned to her quiet spot and found a lamp to light it properly.

There were some interesting tidbits, naturally, such as:

 **"Veela are mostly of French, Slavic or Grecian descent though the most well known are the first two types due to their pale skin, light eyes and almost silver hair. The female Veela have an almost unearthly beauty; even those who are no more than a quarter of that particular bloodline are almost ethereal. There is no known beginning strain, much like wizards and witches of our age and yet there are many muggle stories concerning the female of the Fench/Slavic type including Marko Kraljevic and The Veela. For the ancient Greek; one only needs to study Homer's The Odyssey as compared to mythological beings known as Sirens (See also notes on Harpies, dissertation page seven).**

 **Though I have not been fortunate to meet a male of this type, the two females I've interviewed, Adelina Gauthier and Jacqueline Baumé, assure me that males do exist though not in the same ratio as the female. The male of the species can control fire and ice and their wings (if full or half) are known to be either white or brown feathers, unlike an angry female who's wings closely resemble those of a Harpy or dragon.**

 **Though there are some mating habits which are sacred to the Veela and not given to outsiders, my two interviewees told me of three different aspects, only two of which I am allowed to reprint here. In the words of Jacqueline:**

 **"Dreams are of great importance. We see our mates in dreams and track them by scent. As my great grand mere informed me, our mates can sometimes be reached in this dream state, thus alleviating some of the pressure for connection."**

 **Adelina adds:**

 **"The time of becoming varies. For most females, the age ranges from fifteen to eighteen. The males show signs later, by at least a year. If the prospective mate is not found within two years, it is possible for us to bond with another but there will always be something missing. However, if the mate is found and remains unmarked, the pain of rejection will drive us to insanity and further, into death. It is an awful way to die."**

Hermione blinked.

 _'What? He could die?'_

Of course, even after finishing the treatise, there seemed to be no further mention of either male Veela or of the mating habits, rituals, and desires of either gender. With a flick of her wand, Hermione sent the small folio back to its home and turned her attention to the rather slender book by the unknown author. The book itself seemed to be some sort of journal written by a young woman who eventually ended up mated to her husband, a half Veela of French descent.

The most interesting passage was dated 28, February 1762 and though written wholly in French was easily understood.

 **"I dream of him, so many nights now. Usually not the whole of his face, as it seems to be a very rare happening. Tis only his eyes (Lightest cerulean) and hair (white blond). I have this feeling of being hunted or stalked and I experience touches that are neither terrifying nor calming but an odd amalgamation of the two.**

 **I hear his voice, words meant to sooth, I think and queries I can not answer. He scares me and draws me near, all at once. I am terrified of what he makes me feel. What he wants to give, what he needs in return. Is he real? Do I know him? I fear that I am losing my mind."**

Followed by a small passage dated 15, April 1763.

 **"I have seen him and his name is Jean-Guy Plantier, a noble of some renown. He stares at me. I do not know why."**

Could Malfoy be some sort of male Veela? Was she to be his mate? Did she want to be? Those thoughts whirled through her mind, even as she replaced the final book and retreated from the library, back to her quiet room. Sleep was difficult and yet, when it came, she fell into dreams.

 _"Kitten, why do you hide? Come. Let us talk a while."_

 _She tried to hide away but his lean form stalked forward, toward the space where she was wedged between the armoire and canopied bed. She knew it was stupid, to try and hide. Could he not smell her? Yet, old habits die hard and holding still, like a rabbit, had seemed a good idea at first. Now, she knew better._

 _"I can smell you. Let me taste you, kitten."_

 _Is it his words that draw her forward, forcing one step, another, until she sees him fully~ gray eyes alight with hunger, mobile mouth turned up into a sweet smile, large hand extended to beckon her into the light? Is it the sound of pain hidden beneath the dulcet tones? She does not know. She only steps closer until they are but a few meters apart._

 _"Wake up, pretty."_


	6. Conversation-November 1st

**Disclaimer: I own none of the settings, characters, tropes or hell even the words, only the way I put those words together in this tiny little story. JK Rowling is a goddess. I am just a wolf boi.**

 **A/N: This chapter is rather short but I tend to keep one idea per chappie and when the idea has been viewed, it's the end.**

He awakened early on Saturday morning, his gray eyes squinted against the odd green glow that suffused his dorm room walls. He assumed the odd coloration was due to the Dungeons themselves, especially since they appeared to meet the shores of Black Lake in some odd space/time continuum. But assumption was the mother of all fallacy and it really did not matter in the scheme of things, so after giving himself a rather large all over body stretch, he sat up and then stood, his blond locks disheveled by random finger combings.

"Okay," he murmured.

Being an only child and reticent about most things pertaining to his life or emotional well-being meant that he had often engaged in conversation with himself. When he was much younger and had shared a dorm, he had been slightly different as there were other people around. Now, much like when he was at home in the Manor, he preferred his own company, his own thoughts. However silence could become deafening and so, he'd picked up the habit of speaking out loud. After all, he didn't have very many friends~ Zabini, Nott and Parkinson were it and of those three, only Nott spoke with Hermione without sneering or rudeness. So, it was Theo that had to be cornered and told the truth or as much as Draco was willing to share with the tall, thin young man.

"Not until I get a shower and dressed, though."

Draco meandered through the common room no more than a half hour later, his white-blond hair falling over his forehead, his lean frame encased in fitted black slacks, black dragon hide boots and a soft gray jumper. Within a few moments, he had located Nott who was in front of the fireplace, random books and parchments spread across its surface. The young man paused and then wandered over, almost soundlessly.

"Theo, may I have a word," he asked, his voice a murmur.

The messy haired young wizard glanced up, his dark blue gaze flicking toward Draco before he rose to his feet; his tall, thin frame topping Draco by an inch or two.

"One assumes you would prefer to do this elsewhere, Drake," was the response, in a deep bass which contrasted oddly with his appearance.

"Follow me."

The two young men retreated deeper into the Dungeon, not pausing until they reached Draco's room. With a whisper, the warded door swung open and Draco stepped forward, motioning his friend to follow him. Once they were inside, the door was closed and a wordless "Muffliato" was cast before Draco turned around to face his friend. Theo found a seat and waited, his gaze trained upon the young man who paced before him.

"What I am about to tell you must be kept in confidence. No one else knows nor do I want anyone else to be privy to this information," Draco began, voice even with nary an inflection.

"I will keep your secrets, Draco. Haven't I always?"

What followed was a concise breakdown of everything Draco had been told, felt and conjectured. Theo did not interrupt, only listened with his dark blue eyes closed as if he were immersed in the sound, the cadences, of the words spoken. As his friend's story wound toward the end, the lanky young man glanced at the blond wizard before him and allowed the silence to come between them for a brief moment. Finally, he spoke, "So, you are at least one-quarter Veela and Granger is your mate. If you do not mark and bind her before you turn nineteen, you could die or, at the very least, spend the rest of your life miserable from her not accepting the bond, correct? What do you need from me?"

"I need help. You know how awful I was to her. Hell, all of us were, but I was the worst. You have spoken to her and used to study with her last year before the Terrible Trio left school. I need someone who can at least talk to her, study her up close. Someone I can trust not to cause her harm or spread my secrets all over Hogwarts. You are the only one that fits."

Theo nodded, slowly, a faint frown marring his usually impassive mien before he broke the silence, "I can try. I will try. At least you have some time, Drake."

"True but this is our last year, Theo. If I am going to make a move, it needs to be now. I mean, she could disappear after graduation and then where would I be?" He paused, shook his head, continued on. "I need her. More than that, I want her. Looking at her makes me feel weak with longing. However, she won't even glance at me, most days. It's like she knows my schedule well enough to avoid me outside of class and meals. I need an in."

Theo nodded, once more.

"Give me a few weeks. Hopefully, I can give you some good news before Christmas break."

"That is all I ask, Theo."

A few minutes later, Theo left the room behind. Draco cast a "Finite" and did the same, setting his wards upon exiting. He was hungry and maybe he'd see Granger in the Great Hall. Of course, once he had settled himself down to a nice meal, his prospective mate was nowhere to be seen.

 _'I will see her, eventually. She can't hide forever. I won't allow it.'_


	7. Prelude

**Disclaimer: I never owned it, ain't getting paid for it and all the characters and such created by the Goddess that is JK Rowling belong solely to her. I am just abusing them, a little. *grins***

The next month or so was filled with random outbursts of hilarity as well as reams and reams of homework. Most students had settled into the ebb and flow of classes, filling their weeks with classwork, gossip and the occasional weekend in Hogsmeade. For Hermione, falling into the schedule of classwork, homework, study, food, sleep became the rhythm that her heart followed and left no time for further worries over the things she had previously read, especially with winter break coming soon.

Did she notice any oddities? Not really. In fact, she had resumed studying with Nott, both Potions, and Charms, and found that his seriousness matched her own. They worked well together and spent hours in the sort of silence that was broken only by the faint crackle of pages being turned or the quiet scratching of a quill upon parchment. There was no gossip, no random conversations, at least not right away. That particular thing changed on the last day of November when Theo asked her a question.

"Granger, are you going to the Yule ball? "

Hermione glanced at the lanky young man and gave a small grin, noting the way his dark blond hair fell over his brow.

"I wasn't planning on it. I helped come up with the ideas and decorations. Not sure if I would enjoy it as much as others who did not have to listen to a bunch of whiny Prefects as the whole thing was being hammered into shape."

Theo laughed, his usually saturnine face alight with something akin to good humor.

"Well, that's funny. I thought the Head Boy and Girl had to attend together? I could have sworn that Draco mentioned it."

"I don't recall hearing about it,"Hermione murmured as an odd flutter began in the pit of her stomach. "I should probably find out. Do you think once we finish that you could ask Malfoy to join me in the Prefects meeting room, you know when it's convenient for him to do so? After all, if it's required, I should probably try and find some dress robes or something, right?"

"Sure. If we are finished for the evening, I can head off to see if I can find him, now. Would you like me to have him send you an owl with a time," Theo asked, his dark blue eyes trained upon her face. "It wouldn't be an issue."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, please. Has to be easier than just waiting around in the hopes that he'll show up, yeah?"

They both laughed, even as Theo began to gather his parchments and Charms book, slipping them into his satchel along with his quill. Once everything had been put to rights, the tall young man rose from his seat and gave Hermione another smile. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the library's entrance but not before he offered her a "See you later, right?"

"Sure."

With nothing else to accomplish, Hermione soon followed her study partner. It was getting late and Head Girl or not, she didn't feel it would be appropriate to be out too long after curfew. Anyone could be out and about, though she doubted it. Months of being out in the wilderness, searching for dark magical objects and then fighting a war of attrition which had ended abruptly had only heightened her awareness of her surroundings and THAT made for a very antsy walk back to the Gryffindor tower and the solitude of her dorm.

She hated feeling that way. The passage of time had done nothing to quell her more irrational worries and the darkness of Hogwarts' hallways only added to her sense of dislocation. So, she walked quickly, not pausing until she stood just beyond the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Password," the lilting voice asked.

"Tantoque victrix," was the whispered response and when the portrait swung back, Hermione hustled inside.

Almost as soon as the young witch reached her room and spoke the second password, she began to strip out of her robe and school uniform, slender fingers tugging at her tie and buttons with a practiced air. No more than a few minutes later, she was in her pajamas, flannel pants, and a white tank top, and ensconced in the warmth of her large four-poster bed. Her eyes had just begun to close when she heard a slight tap tap tap at her window.

"Lumos."

Candles lit at once, giving the large room a soft glow.

"Incendio."

Her small fireplace crackled into renewed life as she hurried to the window and opened it. A beautiful Eagle owl swooped inside and landed upon her desk, his head cocked to the left as he held out one leg. Hermione reached out to retrieve the message before allowing her fingers to brush over the feathers at his crown.

"One moment, you handsome fellow."

She unrolled the parchment and read the few sentences with an odd sort of expression, her lips turned up into a half smile while her forehead crinkled in thought. The words were bland:

 **Granger,**

 **Meet me tomorrow after dinner. Maybe 7?**

 **We can talk then.**

 **DM**

Hermione snatched up a small piece of parchment and jotted down a response in the affirmative before rolling it up and wrapping it with a small red ribbon. She proffered the note to the stately owl and watched as he once again took flight, his mournful cry fading as he disappeared from view. She was worried and once she allowed sleep to claim her, those worries followed her into dreams.

 _The hallways beckoned, flickering torchlight concealing much more than it revealed. She found herself walking, small frame covered in dark muggle jeans and a dark blue jumper, feet encased in a pair of blue ballet flats._

 _She heard footsteps._

 _They were not fast nor slow, only steady, and with every beat of her heart, she knew that those steps were drawing closer. Her body's fight or flight response kicked in, a trembling that could not be seen, only felt, as her heart rate increased and her breathing became no more than a sobbed sort of panting._

 _She moved more quickly._

 _Suddenly, silence. Yet, as she turns the corner, a shape looms before her. Her own brown orbs skitter up, there to meet gray eyes which darken toward charcoal as they capture her gaze._

 _"Little Lioness, where are you going?"_

She awoke to a stream of sunlight and the pounding of her heart. However, it wasn't fear that caused it or not wholly fear. There was an edge of desire as well. She was frightened but even more, she wanted to know. She needed to understand. Maybe then the dreams would stop. Or, even more interesting. maybe Draco would tell her what it all meant. At the very least, Hermione could hope for that.

 **A/N: Thank you for the review, emjrabbitwolf!**


	8. Darkly, He Comes

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is love and so is her world of Harry Potter. All things and situations easily recognizable belong to her. Everything else comes from my awful imagination. As always, I make no money from this. (And you can tell, right!)**

The day had gone by quickly, the normal routine rendered abnormal due to the upcoming 'appointment' after dinner. Did Hermione really want to go? Not really and yet, very much so. She had, of course, spent the past two months avoiding the blond male, barring the accidental meeting in September and Prefect bi-monthly get-togethers. If she had her way, this particular habit would have held until the end of the year. Alas, it was not to be.

It did not take long for the diminutive witch to decide that Yule sucked.

Small feet carried her rapidly past the library. She had been too nervous to eat a proper dinner and her stomach was both unsettled and faintly growling with hunger. She ignored it, instead focusing on her breath control as she shifted her book bag to her other shoulder and cursed herself for neglecting the feather-light charm to take away the weight. Within a few minutes, she had stepped into the meeting room and slung her bag onto a nearby table.

He wasn't there yet.

Hermione allowed a small sigh to breach the stillness and moved toward a seat in the back of the room, a slightly panicked look gracing her elfin features as she turned her gaze to a nearby wall. She was unsure as to how the conversation would proceed and the idea that she could not know until he showed up only left her feeling flustered and out of sorts. It was a feeling she'd never truly had before, not when it came to the blond Slytherin. However, she was absolutely certain that she hated to feel that way, now.

 _'I'm early,'_ she thought. _'He will be here soon enough and then I can calm down. Maybe.'_

The sensation of being stared at drew her from her thoughts. With a jerk, she turned to face the doorway and the handsome young wizard who had paused there. He was dressed in black, from head to toe, though for this particular meeting he had neglected his robe. Hermione felt the blush that rose to stain her cheeks but for a long moment, only their eyes spoke. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hermione, you wanted to see me," he queried, his husky tenor no more than a quiet sort of purr.

The wild-haired witch nodded.

"Well, here I am."

He then strode closer, his lean build moving with an athletic grace, even as his gaze seemed to strip her of her defenses. Hermione felt as if all the oxygen had been torn from the room so she stood and then backed up until her back hit the wall. Her eyes widened at the jolt. The young man only stepped closer before slapping his palms to either side of her head, caging her between his form and the solidness behind her. Those eyes, which had haunted her dreams for months, peered down at her even as a smirk graced his features.

"Where are you going, kitten?"

Hermione blinked, his endearment bringing all of her dreams to mind.

"Um, Theo said that the Head Boy and Girl had to attend the Yule ball together? I just wanted to know if that was the case." Her voice trailed off as she tipped her head downward, breaking away from his piercing gaze.

Draco nodded. She saw it from beneath lowered lashes. He then leaned forward, his patrician nose seeming to inhale the scent of her hair before he dipped his head further and ended up with his body pressed flush against her and his mouth by her ear.

"Yes. It's true. Dumbledore said it would be good for house unity. You will, of course, allow me to pay for your dress and shoes," a purred demand.

"No. I can afford my own..."

The blond young man shook his head and interrupted, "Whether you can afford it or not, custom dictates that I buy it. Therefore, you will allow me the pleasure of doing so."

Hermione shuddered lightly as his voice and breath wafted toward the delicate flesh of her ear and displaced the curling tendrils that lingered there. His left hand moved from the wall and drifted south to anchor itself to her hip, long fingers curled into the pliant flesh. His head dropped lower until his mouth hovered by her neck.

"I will not argue. Especially since I know you were not planning to attend. It would be my pleasure to take care of you and you will not deny me." Again, the sound of two voices traveling through one throat.

Hermione nodded and flicked her gaze to the side so she could study what little she saw of his face. Once he felt her agreement, Draco straightened and stepped back, his hand lingering for but a moment at her hip before he squeezed and then released the slight swell he'd found there.

"Good. Look for something with accents of dark green. The money will be sent to you within the next day or so." He smiled at her, turned and then left her without a backward glance.

The frizzy-haired female exhaled and slumped against the wall. Her thoughts raged and her body trembled but she could not deny that there was something that drew her to him. Was he Veela? Was she his mate? Could she, would she, reject him?

Somehow, she did not think so.

 **~Break~**

Draco whistled as he walked back to his room, hidden away in the bowels of the Dungeon. The conversation with Hermione had gone far better than he'd hoped and her response to his nearness had been everything he'd desired. There was an air about her, it felt like knowledge and he wondered if she had guessed, if she _knew_. He didn't think so but even if she did, would that be too terrible?

 _'Imagine all of the conversations I could avoid,_ ' he thought, contemplatively. ' _Imagine how much easier it would be.'_

Soon enough, he entered the Slytherin common room and noted, with a pleased expression, that Theo was playing chess against an exceedingly plump fifth-year girl by name of Helena. Draco settled himself on a nearby couch and watched the game as his mind wandered back to the meeting he'd had with Hermione. A smile flitted across his features as he remembered the way her body felt against his, the way her smell pervaded his very being.

Was the attraction, the NEED, growing? Could love be far behind, at least on his side? He did not know and his mother could not tell him. She was not the Veela in his immediate family and the one who could have told him was gone, sucked away by death and the grave. He didn't mind though. He'd had enough of the mess his father had left behind. The truth was he wanted to discover more on his own...and he would


	9. Girl Talk and House Unity

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all characters, situations, and things that you recognize. My story is just a grain of sand found in her sandbox. As always, still broke and making no money from this!**

Two days after her meeting with Draco, the beautiful eagle owl she had assumed was for his personal use, dropped off a small green velvet pouch brimming with galleons. Hermione, of course, promptly freaked out but after a quick meeting with Theo, decided to accept it. After all, she really did not know all of the rules that pureblood families followed and Theo had argued with her until she understood that for Malfoy, it was a matter of pride, no more, no less.

So, what could she do?

After she'd retraced her steps to the Tower and stashed the pouch in her dorm, Hermione had headed for the Gryffindor common room in the hopes of catching up with Ginny who she'd not spoken to for a few days. It wasn't that she was avoiding the young redhead. No, in fact, she missed spending time with the slender beauty. However, with everything that had happened in the past few months, she'd just found herself swamped with school, head duties and dreams. All of those things combined caused the curly-haired witch to retreat but thanks to Draco's determination, she was going to need help and Ginny was her best option.

As for the redhead? Things had not been going so well. Harry had sent her an owl explaining that he felt they should take a break because of the arduousness of Auror training and their lack of communication and time together. Of course, that hurt but she'd agreed nonetheless. Holding onto him would only make things worse for the ex-couple and she'd die before she did that. When all was said and done, Ginny felt just as withdrawn as Hermione and probably for a much better reason so when her messy haired friend interrupted her quietude, Ginny took it with every evidence of relief.

"Hermione, where have you been hiding? I haven't spoken to or seen you in forever," Ginny exclaimed.

"Just been busy trying to catch up with the end of the sixth year lessons, head duties, this year's class assignments and um...going crazy trying to figure out this thing with," her voice dropped to an embarrassed murmur.

"Did you say Malfoy!?"

Hermione glanced at her friend and gave a nod, her cheeks awash in dark pink.

"That's it! You start talking, right now!"

The curly haired young woman gave a half grin and then stood up. "Follow me, this is NOT a conversation I want to have in the common room." With that, she turned and headed for the stairs and the female dorms. Ginny followed, soon after. Within a few minutes, the pair had returned to the solitude of Hermione's room and were ensconced on the small love seat. Ginny's wide brown eyes focused on her friend once more.

"Okay, talk!"

It took Hermione just over an hour to discuss her dreams, the things she'd read, the money Draco had sent her for her dress and shoes, the way he acted, the way he made her feel, all of it. Ginny had interjected a few times, mostly to gain clarification for certain topics but by the time it was said and done, Hermione had spilled her guts and Ginny found herself stuck between excitement and embarrassment for her friend.

"You do know that if Draco is a Veela and you are already dreaming of him that it means his Veela knows that you are his mate, right?"

Hermione shrugged and ducked her head, a quiet whisper of "Yes," given in response.

"You also know that if he is acting this way with you, regardless of you avoiding him, that his urges toward you will only get worse after he turns eighteen. He may not even be able to control himself if given too much time."

Hermione nodded.

"Well then, it's obvious that you need a plan of attack. I can't believe you've just been trying to ignore the possibilities. Veela cannot harm their mate. They live for them. Imagine all of that deliciousness directed only toward YOU!"

The girls shared a laugh before silence descended. Finally, Hermione asked the question which had drawn them together, to begin with, followed closely by a thought concerning the ball and Ginny's lack of excitement.

"I need you to help me shop, please? Also, do you have your robes and such yet? Is Harry coming to take you," Hermione enquired, her head tilted slightly to the left.

Ginny frowned. "Sure I'll help and no I haven't gone shopping. No point, is there? Harry and I aren't together anymore."

"What? Why," was the immediate response.

"Because of Auror training and lack of time. I never bothered to go find a dress or anything because I don't have a date."

"Well FUCK that. We are going to find something perfect for you too and then we are going to find you a date. Maybe a Slytherin. Theo's nice..." Hermione trailed off at the look on the younger woman's face.

"Not Theo. I think he has a thing for Luna. I wouldn't mind trying to hook up with Zabini, though. Have you seen his arse? So nice."

Hermione laughed. "I have been busy avoiding Malfoy but now I have to get a look at Zabini and who knows? Maybe I can find out if tall dark and chocolate has a date from Theo."

Once more there was a spate of giggles and before too long, the girls were planning a trip to Diagon Alley on the next Hogsmeade weekend. By the time the two parted ways, both of them were in far better moods.

Once Ginny set off for dinner, Hermione hurriedly left the Gryffindor tower after writing a quick note and made her way to the owlery. Best to find out herself if Zabini would be interested enough to take Ginny to the ball. Once she arrived (After many stair changes, two blank walls, and Peeves trying to dunk her in ectoplasm) Hermione found a friendly looking owl and attached her note.

"Take this to Blaise Zabini, please."

As for Zabini? He was in the Great Hall, along with Malfoy, Nott, Greengrass, and Parkinson. The small owl flew directly to him and dropped the note, right next to his plate, before turning and flapping back the way he'd come. Zabini's dark eyebrows went up, even as he reached for the bound parchment and opened it to read.

 **Zabini~**

 **I have it on good authority that a certain Gryffindor redhead would like a chance to get to know you. If you don't already have a date for Yule, why don't you owl her?**

 **Granger**

 **P.S. She thinks you have a great arse.**

Blaise took a moment to glance over at the Gryffindor table, his full lips curved into a smirk. His dark gaze landed on Granger before he nodded and glanced at Ginny. Hermione caught his small nod and elbowed Ginny before she leaned over and whispered something that made the other girl laugh and then blush.

Blaise then leaned toward Draco and said, his voice low; "Looks like Ginevra would like me to take her to the ball. Good idea or not?"

Draco grinned. "Hell yes. Pothead would so get his knickers in a twist and she is better than just about anyone else in that stupid tower."

"Well, what about you? I know Parkinson or Greengrass expect you to take one of them."

The platinum-haired wizard shrugged and shook his head before responding. "I am taking Granger."

"Why? You hate her!"

"No, I don't and Head duties, of course."

At that, Theo laughed. Darkest brown and lightest gray eyes swiveled to meet the lanky wizard's own dark blue gaze but it was Draco who asked the question.

"Who did you ask, Nott?"

"Lovegood. She's smart and pretty, in an odd way."

All three young men laughed.

Blaise's chuckle tapered off and eventually, he responded with, "House unity for the win! Maybe we will be allowed fire whiskey this year since we are definitely proving to be far more mature than before."

More laughter.


	10. Diagon Alley, Here We Come!

**Disclaimer: I didn't invent nor write the original Harry Potter stories, to begin with, only JK Rowling had that pleasure. I make no money off of this, more's the pity.**

 **A/N: I am now getting close to the end of my pre-written and edited chapters. Once that happens, my update schedule will be every Friday until it is completed. (Unless of course, I write more while working on the bits I am posting right now, which I will admit is very friggin' possible.)**

 **Also, thank you for the reviews! (And sweetest slytherinx, you and I have a LOT of stories read or favorited in common which is why I'd thought of you as someone I'd read...)**

The first Hogsmeade weekend in December occurred on the second Saturday of the month, the Yule Ball falling on the following one (the twentieth). Since Ginny and Hermione were going to go dress shopping, the girls had decided to crash together in the Head dorm so that they could get an early start. Of course, two young women with far too much hair between them took a little bit of ingenuity to get themselves ready for the day so by the time they'd managed to stumble out of the tower and to the Grand Entrance, they'd missed breakfast.

"Hold on Ginny, I have to meet with the Prefects," Hermione halted her own forward motion to gather up the twenty-four young men and women who would be responsible for helping to herd all of the escaping students.

Once she had them corralled, it took only a few moments to go over the rules, meeting places and hours before she was ready to continue on with her own plans. She wondered, of course, why Malfoy hadn't handled the meeting himself but with a shrug, she pushed that thought away. If she were lucky, she wouldn't have to see him, at all. However, she was well aware that luck was sometimes in short supply and she was proven right, yet again, when Malfoy and Zabini appeared (as if by magic HA!) with wicked smiles. Or in Draco's case, a devious smirk.

Blaise greeted Ginny with a soft kiss to the inside of her right wrist and a huskily spoken, "Good morning, Ginevra." The smoothness of that particular move did not go unnoticed which prompted Hermione to note that red was definitely NOT a good look for her friend. Of course, that thought caused Hermione a serious case of the giggles, at least until Draco snuck his arm around her waist and gave her hip a light squeeze.

"We would like to accompany you both into Diagon Alley as we need to pick up our dress robes," Malfoy purred.

"We would be honored if you'd allow us to join you," Zabini continued, his lightly accented tones entirely too seductive to be born.

Both young women gave quick nods, along with furious blushes, and it was not long after that the foursome headed out. Hermione soon dislodged Draco's hand with a whispered, "Stop that!" and a sharp little smack to wandering fingers. Blaise, however, attempted to remain a gentleman and caught Ginny's hand with his own. The difference between the two young men was startling~ light to dark, predatory to seductively sweet~ and yet, both held their chosen female captivated.

 _'Oh, this is bad. Bad, bad, bad,'_ the flustered curly haired witch thought. _'No way I am going to survive this day intact."_

Soon enough, the two pseudo couples had arrived just outside the Three Broomsticks. Draco immediately set about arranging the Prefects for maximum coverage and rotations which left Hermione with nothing to do, which was quite nice of the blond git, all things considered. Once schedules were settled, the two young men grabbed their prospective dates and, with clear intentions, apparated themselves to Diagon Alley, right in front of Madame Malkin's. Ginny, took a moment to calm her roiling stomach before she turned to Zabini and spoke, "Blaise, any requests on a color for my dress?"

The dark-skinned young man gave her a slow smile and an even slower once over before responding with, "Something in blue, Ginevra. I am sure you will look stunning." A moment later, he handed her a small blue velvet pouch, a dark brow lifted sardonically at her mutinous expression before teasing words dripped forth, "Do not look at me like that. Granger has already had this talk with Malfoy and I will tell you the same thing he told her; it is my duty and pleasure to provide my date with suitable attire. Take it."

Ginny glanced at Hermione who gave a sort of one shoulder shrug and nodded, "It's true. I even asked Theo about it. Don't argue, woman. Let's just go spend their money on looking fabulous!"

Blaise laughed and, for a moment, Hermione thought they would get away without further mishap but Draco was of an altogether different mind frame. Before the tiny witch had taken more than a step away, his long fingers had wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back toward his lean frame. Her hand flew up and braced her against his chest but that did not stop his quest. Instead of releasing her straight away, he bent his head, blond hair ghosting across his high forehead and growled, "Don't forget, Hermione. Something with dark green accents," before shifting slightly and placing a kiss upon her cheek.

Hermione stammered and then pulled herself from his grip with a hurried, "Sod off, Draco," and then grabbed Ginny to tug her away. The young women could hear the two wizards behind them, chuckling.

"Fucker," Hermione swore. "It's like he goes out of his way to bother me!"

"Well, I am definitely thinking either a long-lasting love potion or that he's at least a quarter Veela. The way his gaze gobbles you up! I don't even know how you are not falling at his feet...or on his face."

"Ginny," Hermione huffed in response. "You are just as bad as him!"

An hour later found the girls with dresses, Hermione's in emerald green and Ginny's in a lovely dark blue, as well as some pretty black heels. Neither female had thought about getting dress robes as they preferred the idea of standing out from the other women who would attend the ball. It was then just the work of the moment to have their dresses tailored to better fit them. With that accomplished, the duo left Madame Malkin's after ensuring their purchases would be sent to Hogwarts. With nary a word spoken, the young women turned left toward a nearby tea shop called Tilly's, in the hopes of grabbing some sustenance.

No more than half an hour later, Draco and Blaise entered. They did not give the young women time to disagree about their imminent departure, merely grabbed their hands and led them outside so that they could apparate back to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks for a warm butterbeer. Hermione and Ginny, pleased with their purchases, gave in with no more than a few snipes and soon enough they were seated in a small booth, Draco and Hermione on one side with Blaise and Ginny on the other and four drinks before them.

The conversation was, oddly enough, not stilted and seemed to flow easily between the four. However, Hermione soon noted the way Draco pulled her closer and leaned down to rub his cheek against the mass of her hair. It felt like being scent marked by a cat and made her feel a bit off center. She could tell that he knew it, too. His smirk underlined it every time she glanced at him.

Things would have continued on if Cormac McLaggen had not taken it upon himself to accost Hermione after she'd left the table to use the loo.

"Hermione, why are you sitting with Snakes?" His hand darted out to capture her upper arm and tugged her so that she faced him and his supposedly handsome grin. The young woman tried to snatch her arm away from him but his grip was far too strong.

"Cormac, let go. I am sitting with Malfoy and Zabini because Ginny and I are going to the Yule Ball with them, NOT that it's any of YOUR business." She tugged at her arm, once again.

"Hell if you wanted a decent date, you should have come to me. I would have taken you, no problem. I know you remember our night at Sluggy's dinner. I could treat you much bet-"

It was here that the blond man's words were cut off as Draco had come up from behind, his eyes almost black and his form vibrating with rage.

"Let go of her, McLaggen," the words were a low growl and a weird combination of tones. "I saw her trying to get away. A real man does not keep a woman when she does not want to be kept."

Cormac jerked back as if he had been slapped, his blue eyes darting toward the blond male beside him. Meanwhile, during the interim. Hermione had finally freed herself and took a step forward, just close enough to land two blows; one to Cormac's jaw before she dipped slightly to land another punch to his groin. As the boy dropped to his knees, she leaned in close and whispered; "You touch me again and I will make you rue the day you woke up with a penis." With that, she stomped off.

There was a momentary silence, followed by a young wizard's moan which was abruptly cut off as Draco lifted the young man, with one hand, to his feet. "Touch her again and I will end you," he ground out, his eyes dark as pitch. "I won't even break a sweat doing it."

Hermione missed this but Ginny and Blaise both saw it. While Blaise did not understand how his friend, who was slightly shorter and much leaner, could have picked Cornac up by his throat; Ginny slotted another piece into the puzzle that Hermione had provided her. Draco's reaction, the way his head had turned, the fact that it was impossible to see Hermione through the throng, at least not until the space cleared around the trio? There was no way he wasn't something other than a wizard and if she were a betting woman, she'd put everything she had on Veela, to win.

Once Hermione returned from the restroom, the quartet paid and left. Draco draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders and slowly pulled her closer, even as a low purring vibrated the air. The curly haired witch felt comforted by the sound and so allowed herself to be manhandled until she was pressed firmly against her partner's side. The foursome walked together for quite a while until it became necessary to inform the eldest set of Prefects from each House that the Head Boy and Girl were about to return to Hogwarts. What that meant was that quite a few students saw the "dynamic duo" in what looked to be quite a cozy clench but it could not be helped. Hermione was a conscientious Head Girl, after all.


	11. It's The Ball, Baby!

**Disclaimer: You know the drill- I own nothing except for my imagination. Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.**

The two young women met in the Head girl's room so that they could get ready together after doing all of the many things muggles and witches do to make their skin silky. Both dresses had been delivered the day before and were hung on the back of the armoire door which stood sentinel against the north wall. Both pairs of heels held cushioning and strengthening charms which had been applied due to the delicate nature of the shoes themselves (and to avoid clumsy mishaps, like Hermione falling down the stairs leading into the Great Hall!). Of course, Ginny had come prepared for all eventualities, her make up bag and hair adornments all toted up and ready for use.

There was much laughter as they helped each other with hair and makeup and giggled over the lingerie each dress had required. In both cases, a sticking charm for their breasts had been sorely required (Which was just fine with Hermione as she wasn't overly blessed in that area anyway; Ginny had just a bit more to control!) as well tiny silk thongs and a garter belt to hold up their stockings. It was all just a bit too much. However, by the time they were ready (with fifteen minutes to spare!) neither of them could deny that they looked amazing.

The pair had just traipsed downstairs and into the Gryffindor common room when there was a commotion by the entrance. Seamus hustled over to answer it, only to be greeted by Zabini and Malfoy in perfectly tailored raw silk suits in a lustrous black, with only their ties (Black and emerald green for Malfoy, black and a dark blue for Zabini) to differentiate their attire. The young Irish man's facial expression was a toss-up between hysterical laughter and riotous unease.

"What are you two doing here," Seamus asked, his thick accent almost unintelligible due to a combination of Firewhiskey and high spirits.

"They are here for us, obviously," Ginny snapped.

The common room fell silent as the two Slytherin's entered and the two young women approached them. There were various shiftings, murmurs, even a startled laugh but for the foursome, no one else even registered

Blaise noticed the redhead, even before she reached the bottom of the stairs. His dark gaze lingered over the pale freckled flesh which was covered by a mermaid style dress in dark blue lace that seemed to hug every curve she had. He stood there, speechless, as she made her way over to him, her hips swinging a perfect pendulum, left to right, while her bright eyes shone with glee. Once she finally reached him, she gave a little twirl and then stopped, her gaze settling on his face.

"Is this acceptable," she asked, her voice teasing.

"Oh, Ginevra, more than I could ever say," he whispered into her ear as he leaned forward to brush a kiss over her cheek.

Meanwhile, Draco had gotten his first glimpse of Hermione. She looked almost demure except for the fact that the emerald green dress enhanced her more modest curves before frothing out into a waterfall of tulle which started at mid-thigh and swept the floor. With a quizzical expression, the young woman closed the distance between Draco and herself. Finally, as slender fingers flew upward to pat the elegant chignon at the back of her head, she asked his opinion.

"Do you think this is green enough, Draco?"

The blond Slytherin grinned~ slow, seductive, predatory.

"Oh, yes. It's almost as if you were meant for me..."

Somehow that statement did not sound easy going, at all.

"By the way, I thought you two were getting dress robes," Ginny asked.

"We decided on suits instead, figured we'd match you two better," Draco snarked.

The final word on the subject was Hermione's, "Prat."

The quartet's entrance into the Great Hall was about as silent as one could expect. Very few of the young women there had bought a muggle dress. In fact, most were wearing beautifully tailored dress robes in bright jewel colors and luscious fabrics. For the young men, seeing Ginny and Hermione dressed so femininely was cause for concern (and momentary jealousy) due to the fact that there were two Slytherins escorting the witches. Of course, Blaise and Draco took all of this as their due and only gave out wicked grins, to everyone who happened to glance their way.

As they made their way further into the vast hall, Draco placed his hand just above Hermione's pert rear. Expecting to feel fabric, he was shocked to sweep his fingers over a silky expanse of skin. The dress that had looked so demure from the front bared the elegant young witch's entire back. The blond wizard's eyes immediately darkened and something which sounded quite like a growl soon became audible to those few young men who had been moving toward the pair.

Hermione glanced up at him and placed one slender hand upon his chest.

"Draco. Stop that. No need to make rude noises at people."

Ginny giggled as Blaise looked at his friend with a cocked eyebrow and a small frown. Luckily for them, it was at that point that Theo and Luna decided to join them. With one look, Theo judged the entire situation and moved to place himself and Luna in the way of those who had tried to approach.

"Drake, what's the issue," Theo asked.

Luna, a very smart young woman, only murmured, "Will you have wings, do you think?"

All three men looked at her; Draco with a hint of embarrassment, Theo with a small grin and Blaise with confusion. Ginny chose that moment to tug Blaise away, wrapping her hand around his neck to drag his ear toward her lips so she could whisper what she thought the issue was. A few minutes later, the couple returned and added their own mass to the small gathering.

"Drake, you should have told me, mate," Blaise remonstrated. "I could have helped."

Hermione could feel the tension as it wound through her date's tight frame. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Worried? And why was he still growling? In all her years, she'd never felt as discombobulated as she did, right now. How did one handle a growling male, one who may very well be Veela? _'Maybe with a hug? Soft touches,"_ she wondered. _'Kissing might be too far.'_ With no real idea as to what she was in for, the slender witch stepped closer to Draco and allowed her hands to press against his chest before they slipped down to encircle his waist in an embrace.

"I won't dance with anyone else, okay," She murmured, her voice almost a whisper. "But you have to get a grip, Draco, or there could be trouble."

Draco stepped back and met her wide brown eyes with his own charcoal gaze. "You knew," he husked out. "You knew and you still came?"

"Yes. Now relax. We will work it out before Winter break."

Soon enough the small group broke up and for the most part, all was well. There were only a few instances where Draco required someone to calm him~ a fifth year brushed up against Hermione, Seamus got too close, Dean asked her to dance, but no bones were broken and no fights ensued. Oddly enough, when Hermione danced with the Headmaster or Professors Snape and Slughorn, there was not a single grumble or growl to be heard. She assumed that was a good thing.

By midnight, only the sixth and seventh years remained, many of whom had paired up and were either mingling by the tables or dancing. Hermione and Draco were part of the latter group and it was long moments before she realized that he was purring, like a big cat. She laid her head upon his chest, just over his heart and allowed the sound and his body heat to soothe her.

When the three couples met up again, it was so the young men could walk their dates back to their dorms. As the group meandered, Hermione tried to decide just what the proper course of action would be, concerning Draco and this...whatever this was. Without giving herself too much time to overthink it, she reached out to snatch at Ginny's hand so that she could pull the other woman to a halt.

"I am going to go with Draco tonight. We need to talk and he has the Head Boy's room so we won't be disturbed. I'll be back in the morning to tell you how it went."

Ginny nodded and returned her attention to Blaise while Hermione turned and walked back to Draco.

"I am coming with you tonight so we can talk about all of this."

Draco nodded and with no further ado turned toward the Dungeons, his hand holding hers and bringing her along. Inside he was ecstatic yet quietly worried. Did she know what the marking meant? Would she truly allow it? His Veela had no such issue, though.

 _'She is our mate. Things will be well.'_


	12. The Mate Talk

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, make no money from this and JK Rowling is a goddess.**

Draco and Hermione soon reached the hidden entrance to the Dungeons. The blond male whispered the password and led her through it, his hand still holding hers. Of course, once they passed into the Common room on their way to Draco's dorm, all quiet went to shit as Pansy and Daphne were both there and waiting.

"How could you take THAT to the ball, Drake," Pansy screeched. "She isn't even fit to tie your shoes!"

Draco started to move forward but Hermione placed one small hand on his chest and shook her head. The young man stopped but a growl reverberated throughout the large room, nonetheless. Hermione reached up to stroke slim fingers over his cheek before turning to face the witches, neither of whom looked the least bit worried. With a smile, the curly-haired young woman kicked off her shoes and stepped forward, her small stature immediately apparent. If anything, this made the other two witches feel more confident, at least until she used Levicorpus, wordlessly, to hoist Pansy into the air so that she dangled upside down (by one ankle) with her dress robes dropped over her head and her knickers on display. The irritated witch then turned her attention to the elder Greengrass sister.

"Do you have something to say? Some words of wisdom you need to impart to Draco? Go ahead but I warn you now, I don't need a wand and I don't need words. Cast Silencio if you want, it won't change a thing." Hermione tilted her head, her voice almost a whisper. "But don't think for one moment that if you turn your tongue on me that I will hesitate to give you exactly what you deserve."

"Draco, how can you let that cun-" but that was as far as she got because Hermione immediately cast Avis, again no spoken words. When there was a lull in the whimpering and shrill shrieks, Hermione glided closer, her words now so quiet that the witches had to strain to hear her.

"You will NOT disrespect me. You will NOT disregard me. What you will do is keep your mouths shut. I am not your cunt (and thank Merlin for that, the syphilitic thing that it is) or the pug nose bint's that. My name is Hermione Granger and the sooner you twits learn to use it when speaking of me, the happier we will all be."

With that, she turned on her heel and retreated, silently casting counter magics as she did so.

"Now, if we are finished here? Draco and I need to have a long overdue conversation. Have a good night, ladies."

Draco was convulsed with laughter, his gray eyes closed tightly against gales of mirth. Tears leaked from them and trickled down his cheeks before dripping from his chin. Hermione could do nothing but grin as she picked up her shoes and reached for his hand.

"Come on, let's go."

Once the blond had gotten himself under control, he turned his back on the two young women and led Hermione deeper into the Dungeon, past the Boys' Dormitory until he reached the door to his own room. Turning to her, he stated his password loud enough for her to hear and then ushered her inside before casting Muffliato and resetting his private ward. He then pivoted on his heel so he could look at Hermione.

"Have a seat."

Hermione settled on his bed with her legs crossed and waited. Finally, the blond settled next to her and reached for her hand.

"I know you have questions. Ask."

Hermione pondered for a brief moment, her eyes trained on the floor. Finally, she found her voice and though there was a slight tremor, she asked the questions which had plagued her for months.

"Are you Veela and am I your mate?"

Draco took a breath and then let it out, slowly. He turned slightly so that he could take in her expression before he answered with a simple "Yes and Yes." He paused and then continued on. "I am only one quarter, just enough to need a mate but not enough to grow wings, though claws and fangs are not out of the question if anyone were to harm you or if it is in defense of myself." Silence.

Hermione turned her face toward his own, deep brown eyes searching his own light gray. After a momentary pause, she dropped her gaze and gave voice to the next set of questions that had plagued her ever since she'd found partial answers in the library, "How long have you known and were you ever going to tell me?"

Draco smiled, "The first time I smelled you on the Express and of course I would have told you. I just wanted more time but I did not realize that being this close to you would hurry the process. My mother says that I must mark and bind my mate by the time I am nineteen or I could die. However, through my own research I have discovered that as long as I have given the first mark to my mate, the effects are negated for a few years."

"The first mark," Hermione asked, tremulously.

"Yes. Both the first and third marks happen during coitus. I will not be able to control it. The second mark is from you to me. Though it is the third mark which seals the bond, acceptance of the first mark shows that my Veela has been accepted and will calm him, at least for a while."

"How long do you think you could wait for the first mark? I only ask because we don't really know each other~ yelling at each other and being snarky for six years does not count~ and I would like to see if you and I are compatible, not just myself and your Veela. There is no way for me to learn that if we have to rush."

Draco nodded before answering, his words low and contemplative. "My Veela and I are not separate entities. I have the same urges, desires, bad habits, and whatever else as before. For all intents and purposes, I am Veela. In answer to your question~ maybe a month or two. We will be apart during our Winter break so that will make it easier. Since our last day of class is Monday and we are not due back until the fifth of January, there will be two weeks where there will be no pressure." He paused.

Hermione replied, "What if I could charm matching journals for us so that we could talk during the holiday? It would be faster than using owls and we could start the getting to know each other process without you being tormented by my scent and proximity. If you agree I could give you yours on Monday before we leave."

"I think that's brilliant."

"I only have one more question, the dreams. Are you sending them?"

"No. I wouldn't know how. When did you start having them?"

"At the beginning of June,"

"So, right around the time of my birthday, it's June fifth."

Hermione nodded and then yawned.

"I don't want to go back to my dorm tonight. May I stay here with you? I won't allow any sexual congress but it would be nice to hear your heartbeat under my ear."

"If you trust me then how can I say no? My bathroom is through there if you want to take off your pretty dress and underthings, barring your knickers. I am sure I have a shirt you can wear."

"Yes, please."

Draco released her hand and arose from the bed. Within moments he was digging through his armoire and came up with one of his old quidditch jerseys, his last name written across the back in silver.

"What about this?"

"Okay."

Hermione thanked the young man with a smile and slipped into the bathroom so that she could strip out of her dress, stockings and garter belt. She spent a few minutes washing her face and taking down her mass of hair, shaking it lightly until her curls tumbled over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. Finally, she slipped on his jersey and carried all of her things, neatly folded, into his room. She placed the small pile on his trunk at the foot of his bed.

Draco was already dressed in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else, his alabaster skin gleaming in the low light. Hermione took a moment to take in his lean build, the way his arms flexed, the ridges of his abdomen, the fine trail of dark blond hair which slipped from just beneath his navel down to the waistband of his bottoms. She exhaled on a sigh and with no further ado, she moved quickly to his bed and slipped beneath the covers.

For Draco, seeing the tiny female draped in his clothing, her slender yet well-toned legs on display, was something of a revelation. He had assumed that she had only looked so good to him earlier because she was dressed up. Seeing her in her natural state, wild curls out, her form concealed by his shirt, gave him a masculine sense of pride and stirred him in a way that was purely sensual.

Draco joined her shortly and opened his arms so that she could cuddle next to him. She did so almost at once with her head upon his chest, her slim arm across over his stomach and her slender leg draped over his own. He then enclosed her in his embrace and inhaled. She smelled like home. Soon enough, the young couple was asleep.

 _'Our mate. Ours.'_


	13. Journal Excerpts and New Year's Plans

**Disclaimer: You know what I want to say. I don't own it, didn't invent any of the originals and I make no money from any of it.**

 **A/N: I chose to avoid a lot of Dark Draco/war-ravaged Hermione by changing the timeline of the war, thus negating Hermione's distaste and fear of the Manor as she was never captured nor did Draco have to worry about Voldemort LIVING in his home. This was a decision on my part and wholly rooted in my desire to have a sweet little romance. If that bugs you? Hey, I warned you from the outset.**

Hermione walked with Ginny, Draco, Theo, Luna, and Blaise to the Hogwarts Express station, her mind filled with nonsense. She hadn't yet informed Draco of her decision to stay at the school for the holidays and she wasn't sure if he would feel bad for her. Ginny knew, of course, but her lack of luggage could be easily explained away if she chose to lie.

She didn't.

Just as the train pulled into the station, Hermione tugged Draco to the side, out of the way of the jostling throng and spoke, "I will be at Hogwarts for the holidays. I do not want to go to the Weasley's and I can't go to my parents..." Her voice faded for a moment before she resumed her previous cadence. "I just wanted you to know so you wouldn't worry, alright?"

Draco's bright gray eyes studied her features before he gave a swift nod and enfolded her into a warm embrace. He pressed a kiss to her temple and then whispered, "I will write to you tonight so keep your journal handy."

Hermione nodded and the pair soon rejoined their friends. Much too soon, the whistle blew and people started to depart. Hugs were given, kisses too, and before too much longer, everyone else had gone. Hermione waved goodbye and as soon as the train was out of sight, she turned back to the carriages which would soon return her to school and the quietude therein.

The next few nights were passed in written conversation. Draco kept his word and wrote to her as soon as he'd gotten home and though the conversation felt stilted, at first, by the second night it flowed easily.

December 23rd

 **Hermione, are you awake?**

 _Yes Sir._

 **Oh, I like that. Say it again.**

 _Git! How was your day? How is your mum?_

 **My day was fine, my mum is slightly barmy but I guess that is to be expected. I have talked to her about you.**

 _Oh no. Should I be scared? Is she okay with this?_

 **Silly mate, she's fine though I will have a favor to ask you tomorrow...anyway, how are you?**

The conversation ended up being about four pages. However, both slept decently after "saying" good night. So the sore fingers were definitely worth it.

December 24th

 _Draco? What did you want to ask me?_

 **Mum wants to know if you'd like to spend a few days at the Manor with us.**

 _Um...How about I come for two days to start and we see how bad my nerves are and revisit it at that time?_

 **I would love it but only if you are comfortable. It would make me unhappy to think that you came only to make me happy. Not only that, but it would be completely unlike you to do something you don't want to.**

 _Not true! I spent months with Ron and Harry, on the run. No food, no decent bathroom facilities! You think I wanted to do that? Anyway...I think the 27th, yeah? So that Christmas and Boxing Day are over. Or would you prefer I come closer to the New Year? Like the 30th through the 1st?_

 **Let me think about it. So what did you do today?**

By the time that particular conversation ended, they'd decided on the New Year's option. The next few days were solemn affairs for Hermione, even if she did receive presents from the Weasley's and Harry. The solitude seemed to drag her into a pit of depression which the young woman struggled to hide from Draco but, just her luck, he caught it anyway.

December 28th

 **I am coming to see you tomorrow. I will stay over so we can leave for the Manor together. It will be easy enough to Floo from Diagon Alley or to get permission from Dumbledore to use the floo in his office.**

 _Draco, why? I am fine._

 **No, you are not. I can feel it in my dreams. I will be there tomorrow.**

 _Draco._

 _Draco?_

 _Draco!_

 **I will see you tomorrow, Hermione. Try and get some rest, please.**

At that point, the young woman gave up. He was not about to believe anything she said and if she were honest with herself, she would be glad to see him. It wasn't that she missed him, per se. It was more like knowing that something was not where it should have been and being unable to recollect where you'd last put it.

A niggling itch. A small ache.

She did not miss him, though. At least, that is what she told herself.

Draco could not say the same nor would he have denied it had someone thought to ask. Part of the reason why he'd wanted to return to Hermione was due to her sadness. He hadn't lied about that. In truth, once Hermione admitted that she would not be leaving Hogwarts, he had wanted to stay with her. The night of the Yule Ball, when they slept together, had been the first time (since September) that he had felt wholly at peace. He wanted that again. He needed that.

He missed her.

The journals helped a lot, especially when it came down to actually learning about one another and discovering the things they had in common, which if the truth were told, had been quite a bit more than either would have believed. Years of aggression and dislike had covered their shared interests and ways of thinking to an unbelievable degree. Though it pleased him, words on a page were not the same as her scent. He could not nuzzle his journal or hold it close, not the way he could if he were with his mate. He was tired of denying himself and so, he was going back to get her. No matter what she said.

That night as both young people lay in their separate beds, the first REAL shared dream began to unfold.

 _Quiet._

 _Only the feel of soft silken skin sliding against hard muscle and bone, teeth and tongues working toward shared bliss as kiss after kiss was given, shared, taken, devoured. Hands gripped hair, curls, and soft silken tresses as bodies moved together._

 _Slowly..._

 _Teeth and tongue on a coral shaded nipple which hardened. Breathy whimpers which never traveled further than the curtains that surrounded a bed which was never seen, only felt. Touches, feather-light, which stroked arms and hips before nails gained sway, leaving behind scratches that burned, like so many tiny fires._

 _Tongue tip delved between swollen nether lips, tasting the hidden pink flesh with broad strokes and quick flicks. They move together, neverending, like a sea to the shore. Lips engulf pulsating hardness, cheeks hollowing as inch by inch the heavy jut of flesh disappears into warmth, only to be released with a pop._

 _Still quiet..._

 _And then..._

 _"Kitten, give to me."_

 _But the eyes are all wrong and nails become claws and teeth become fangs and it does not matter because bliss overwhelms, swallows down, takes whole until there is nothing but screams and whimpers and growls and pain that morphs into pleasure which leaves bodies heaving, hungry, needy._

In the morning, she awakened to panties that were soaked and sticky. He awakened with a heavy emission which coated his boxers. Though the pair were in two different places, the thought was the same; _Maybe two months would be too long._


	14. First Real Kisses

**Standard Disclaimer applies.**

She felt him before she saw him though she was unsure as to how or why. It was like a sixth sense which was attuned solely to the blond and there was no way to turn it off. Even with those thoughts the witch decided to head out and search for him. Hiding away would do no good and would only prolong his anticipation and hers. Best to get it over with.

Hermione slipped on a pair of jeans and a soft white jumper before pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Of course, some curls frizzed up and escaped but she felt that Draco would not care, just as long as he could see her. With no further ado, she tugged on a pair of boots and left her room behind. Within moments, she was in the tower's common area, headed to the entrance.

He entered before she could get there. For a split second, she allowed herself to ponder how he had learned the password. Soon enough, she recalled that the Head Boy and Girl were responsible for knowing every House password, just in case a first-year forgot it or there was an emergency. Hermione continued her forward momentum until she could wrap him in a tight hug, Draco's arms immediately enfolded her.

"What was wrong," a question.

"I missed my parents but they are no longer in England. I sent them away near the end of our sixth year, while I was gone. I was worried that Death Eaters would harm them so I Obliviated them and implanted the idea to move to Australia. I don't even know where they ended up. I didn't expect the war to be over so quickly, you know. We had expected the Horcrux hunt to take longer."

Draco moved slightly and wrapped his arm around her shoulders before he led her back to the couch and settled them before the fire.

"What is a Horcrux and why did you need to find it."

Hermione launched into an explanation, her voice no more than a quiet murmur.

"A Horcrux is what results after a wizard or witch splits their soul and places a piece of it within a small object for safe keeping. Doing so can render a person immortal but the actual work must be accomplished with murder. Voldemort had seven of them, the last one being Harry himself. It was just luck that the fight ended in Godric's Hollow. Who knows how long it would have taken otherwise."

Draco nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his warm breath ghosting over her flesh as he inhaled her scent.

"How was your Christmas," Hermione asked.

"Quiet," was his response. "It was just mother and me, though I did ask her if she would reach out to her sister, the one that married the muggle-born wizard. She had been thinking of it ever since the Dark Lord was killed but she said she was hesitant. After all, it was Bellatrix who killed the daughter."

Hermione nodded, "It's Andromeda, right?"

Draco glanced at the small female before nodding.

"Yes. I hear she is raising the little boy now."

Silence descended as the pair watched the fire flicker and Hermione found herself studying the young man from the corner of her eye. He was almost beautiful even though his chin was still a bit pointy. Between his sharp cheekbones, full bottom lip and high arching eyebrows, he looked almost like a dissolute angel. The thought made her smile to herself, unaware that Draco had been studying her in return.

Finally, he patted his lap. Hermione saw the gesture and turned to look at him, a quizzical expression passing over her elfin features. "You want me on your lap," she queried, her voice hesitant.

"Yes."

Hermione looked at him for a moment more and then shifted slightly until she rested on him sideways, her feet pressed into the couch, her bum nestled snugly against his lap. One slim arm encircled his neck and the other rested in her own lap. At first, she was stiff, unsure, but his heat and the silence soon relaxed her enough that she rested her head in the space between his neck and shoulder. Draco encircled her waist with one arm before his other hand reached down to entangle her smaller fingers with his own.

Purring.

The sound soothed her but that didn't last long as she felt his him move her slightly so that he could whisper into her ear, "Kiss me."

Hermione shuddered as the breath stirred her hair before she turned her face toward him and placed her lips against his own. His embrace tightened as his tongue ventured out to taste her bottom lip, sweeping along the silken flesh, slowly. Goosebumps erupted on her skin as she gave a quiet whimper. He gave a masculine chuckle and resumed that slow yet steady sweep, top, and bottom lip, with a judicious nibble on her full bottom lip before he allowed his tongue to beg entrance into the warm cavern of her mouth.

From that point, the kiss grew more heated. Eventually, Draco lifted her slight weight and rearranged her so that her legs rested on either side of his own. Eventually, the kiss shifted into something else as his mouth ghosted downward, teeth and tongue searching her neck. He found a spot behind her ear, nibbled on an earlobe, sucked on the skin over her pulse. The young woman shivered, even as her she unconsciously rocked her hips in rhythm to match each nuzzle. Large hands rose to grip her hips before slipping behind her, there to palm the small heft of her bum. His long fingers squeezed and released at odd intervals as he encouraged Hermione's small rocking motion. She could feel the wetness as it gathered between her thighs and slipped from her nether lips to pool into her panties. His hard length pressed against that most intimate of spots, rubbed against her, separated only by their clothing.

She whimpered again and then paused.

"Wait, wait," her whisper implored.

Draco stopped the movement, his hands held in abeyance on her back. She forced her gaze to meet his own and sucked in a deep breath as she noted the darkness of his eyes, almost black with desire. Slowly, the storm receded until only the lightest gray remained. For her part, Hermione wiggled slightly, moving backward until she could catch her breath.

He spoke, "I apologize. I did not mean for that to happen."

She nodded and dropped her gaze from his, "I know. Did I make it worse?"

"No. It was me," Draco stammered slightly. "It has been a long while for me and you felt so good, smelled so good, tasted so good, that I couldn't control myself."

The frizzy-haired witch nodded again and rose up to settle herself sideways once more. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and though everything he did felt good to her, she knew that it was much too soon for her to be comfortable with what had happened. She also understood, implicitly, that everything would only get more intense if she made him wait for too much longer.

"Do you know if you have the ability to use your pheromones to flood my senses?"

Draco shrugged, "I would not want to, even if I could. I assume I do since more women have approached me than ever before. My mother said that particular effect would not work on you unless we are mated. I can not seduce you in that way. You are protected, at least until you agree to be mine."

"Good," was her response. "I would hate to be forced."

Draco gave a small smirk, his voice almost a tease. "If I have to resort to that then there is a problem."

She giggled and resumed her previous position with her head snuggled against him. Her own hand, the one wrapped around his neck, soon found the hair at his nape and began to tug there. The blond released a small groan.

"Don't do that, Hermione. It does things."

"Well, then should we try and find something to eat, maybe go for a walk?"

"Yes."

"To which," she sighed.

"Both."

With that, she stood up and reached for his hand.

"Come on."

"Grab your coat first. We will walk after eating," he commanded.

"Yes, dear."

This drew a laugh from him and as soon as she had retrieved her jacket, scarf, and hat to hand; he led her out into the empty hallway.


	15. The Manor Visit

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter related, that glory belongs to JK Rowling. I just borrow the world and play there and make no money from doing so.**

The next morning, the pair made their way to Dumbledore's office and the Floo he had there. Once they'd reached the set of stone gargoyles set to guard the entrance, Hermione gave the password "lemon drop" and waited until the old door creaked open. The Headmaster was seated behind the enormous dark cherry wood desk, his hands folded upon its burnished surface, a soft smile hidden behind the snowy expanse of his beard giving him an angelic expression.

"Would you like a licorice whip," the twinkling-eyed man offered. "They are pretty good if I do say so myself."

"No thank you, sir," was Draco's immediate answer even as Hermione reached out for a black one. "We just came to make use of your Floo so that I can take Hermione to my home for a few days."

"Of course," the old man tutted. "No need to ask, my boy. After all, it is much easier to court a prospective mate in a place where one feels most comfortable."

Draco lifted one eyebrow in a questioning expression but said nothing. He had always hated the way the man seemed to know what was happening without being directly told. How could he know what the trip was for? No one knew, especially since the conversation hadn't occurred out loud, only in the pages of the joined journals. It was enough to set the young wizard on edge and he could feel the rush of heat that touched his cheeks from an inexplicable, all-encompassing rage which gave rise to a low snarl, clenched fists, and a glare.

Hermione caught the look and elbowed the young man gently. "Thank you, Headmaster."

With no further ado, the pair stepped toward the huge fireplace and tossed a handful of powder into the flickering flames. Once the fire turned green, Malfoy announced, "Malfoy Manor" and the pair stepped through, together. They stepped out into a well-appointed tea room filled with soft couches and wing-backed chairs. Lovely old wood tables, in oak and cherry polished to a rich glow, were set beside the chairs and held small lamps and candles.

Narcissa, Draco's mother, stood waiting, her hands gripped before her even as a welcoming smile graced her features, lighting her from within. Hermione returned the smile and hastened forward.

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me to your home."

"Nonsense," the beautiful blonde answered. "I have been wanting to meet you ever since that awful wizard was destroyed. I am glad to have you here and I am sure my son shares the sentiment." Here the elegant female glanced at her son, only dropping her gaze when the aforementioned young man moved to her side and pressed a cool kiss to her lightly scented cheek.

"Hello, mother."

"Draco, will you show Miss Granger to her room? That way she can make sure her things have been put away properly. Once she is ready, bring her to the gardens by the gazebo for tea."

Draco nodded and reached a hand out to Hermione. The young woman grasped it securely and with a nod, followed him out of the room. To her left was another door which led into a huge library. Past that were a few different hallways leading off to who knew where but it was the grand staircase, gleaming in solid marble with hand-carved banisters, that drew her gaze and their bodies. As the pair began to ascend, Hermione queried Draco about his mother's statement.

"Tea outside?"

"Yes. The gazebo is set about 10 meters away, near the easternmost rose garden, mum's favorite. The whole of the area is under a stasis charm and feels like mid-spring. We reach it through a door in mother's conservatory."

Hermione nodded and allowed him to lead her upward. At the top of the stairs, Draco turned right and tugged her toward the west wing.

"This is my portion of the manor. I have four guest rooms besides my own as well as a small library, my playroom from when I was younger, a large music room with my piano and cello and some other rooms I have never been in." He laughed. "My parent's wing is to the left of the main staircase though I've never spent any real time in that portion of our home. I have no idea as to what their section contains."

He paused and opened a door. Inside, the room was decorated in shades of cream and light gray, the large bed centered against the far wall. Two tables, one on either side of the bed held small lamps and vases of roses. At the foot of the bed was a small cedar chest. An armoire, chest of drawers and two bookcases completed the layout, giving the room an austere yet somehow homey aura. Opposite the bed was another door. Draco slipped past her and opened it before waving her to his side.

"This is your bathroom."

Gleaming chrome, marble and gold greeted her. The tub was large and housed a variety of nozzles and knobs, probably for bubbles and oils like the Prefect bathroom at Hogwarts. To the left of that was a large walk-in shower, set with three different shower heads in a variety of heights. The vanity and sink were done in a lovely gray-veined marble. Even the toilet looked as if it belonged in a showroom. Hell, it even had a bidet!

"Wow, this is beautiful, Draco," Hermione gushed.

"This will be your room whenever you come to visit. I wanted you to feel at home and to have the privacy you need."

The witch smiled sweetly and hugged him, her head resting against the solid expanse of his chest.

"Thank you," a small hesitation. "Where is your room?"

"Two doors down on the same side of the hall as yours."

"Okay. Let me check for my clothes and then we can go."

With that decisive statement, Hermione moved off to do just that. Her underthings were in the top drawer of her dresser while her clothes were hung in the armoire. The armoire also housed a plethora of dresses and robes, all in the shades and tones she preferred. She glanced back at Draco and he grinned.

"I wanted you to have clothes."

Hermione shook her head and groaned, "Dammit, Draco, stop trying to spoil me! I can afford my own things!"

"I can't help if I want you to have pretty things. Now come on," The tall blond took her hand and guided her back to the door which led into the hallway. "We have to meet mother for tea."

Soon enough, the pair were outside. Narcissa was settled at a large wrought iron table and as Draco led Hermione toward her, the scent of roses wafted through the air. The young woman inhaled deeply and smiled before she turned her attention back to mother and son.

"It's beautiful, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Call me Narcissa, dear." In the next breath, the elegant female summoned a house elf. "Tiddles, tea service for three including some pastries, please."

The elf, small and wizened with large blue eyes and exceedingly droopy ears, bowed and disappeared with a small crack of sound. A few minutes later, he had returned and settled a lovely pewter tray on the table which contained a teapot, three mugs, sugar, milk, and lemon. There was also a lovely selection of chocolate biscuits and small pieces of brownie.

Draco busied himself for a moment, first fixing his mother's cup before turning to tend to Hermione's. The brunette watched his hands and was pleased that he fixed it in just the right way; two teaspoons of sugar and a slice of lemon. She smiled at the young man as he handed it to her before he turned his attention to his own cup and then settled down across from her.

At first, there was an awkward silence as each took sips of their tea. Finally, Narcissa eased the tension.

"So, Hermione, I assume Draco has told you?"

"Yes, ma'am," was the quiet response.

"Do you have any idea on how you wish to proceed?"

Hermione paused, her mind filled with various remarks before she finally allowed herself to speak. "It is my intention to be mated."

Draco's eyes darted to hers, his eyes dark and stormy.

"Really? Why have you not been marked." Narcissa asked.

"Because I am a virgin and scared to move too fast. Plus Draco and I have been enemies for quite a few years. I just want the chance to know him as he is now. We have time for him to court me though I feel as if his Veela would like to move faster."

Draco and his mother huffed a small laugh. After the laughter had faded, Narcissa turned her attention to her son. Her words were light, almost airy as she inquired after his desires. "And you, my son? What would you like?"

"To mark her as mine, mother. I would prefer to let her gain confidence in me first." His gaze shifted to Hermione and his next words were aimed at her. "You are right in that I would like to mark you now but I am willing to wait until I have gained your trust. I admit that I dislike waiting but that may be entirely due to my spoiled and entitled nature."

Hermione groaned at his announcement, silently in agreement with his self-analysis. However, she did not say so. It would have been rude! Narcissa laughed again and turned her attention back to the young woman. "So tell me, what are your plans after graduation?"

The conversation flowed easily after that with soft laughter punctuating certain statements or questions. About an hour later, Narcissa called a halt to the proceedings, "Draco, have you ever given Hermione your gift?"

Draco shook his head. "No mother and now you've ruined the surprise!"

"Well, take her back to her room or," she paused. "Ah, better idea, take her to the library while you go and gather it up. I am going to head up to my room to rest before dinner. Lunch is catch as catch can but the evening meal.." Narcissa paused and then turned her bright blue gaze on the young woman. "I do prefer formal dress for dinner and as I am sure you've seen, Draco has picked out things for you that are more than suitable." She rose from her chair and smoothed her hands over the fine linen of her dress robes, erasing non-existent wrinkles. After she bid farewell to the pair, the beautiful blonde left them to their own devices.

"Tiddles, we are finished!"

"Yes, Mistress."


	16. Gift Giving and Naps

Soon enough, the table was cleared and the young couple returned to the Manor. Draco wasted no time in guiding Hermione to the library, a room even larger than the one at Hogwarts and extended up to the second floor by way of ladders and stairs. The frizzy-haired female gave a small gasp of pleasure and allowed wide eyes to take in the thousands, hell millions, of books.

"Merlin, it's beautiful!"

Draco laughed. "I knew you'd like it. Get comfortable, maybe find something to read, I will be right back." With those words, he slipped away.

Once he was gone, Hermione patted her pocket to make sure his own gift was still there. As soon as she was sure of its presence, shrunken though it was, she moved off toward the shelves. Her fingers traced lightly over the leather-bound tomes as a small smile curled her lips upward. She had just stepped behind a chair located in the far right-hand corner when the blond male returned.

"Hermione, come here, please."

The young woman turned to face him and then strode to his side, her brown eyes fastened upon the small, beautifully wrapped gift held within his large hand. As soon as she reached him, he handed her the present and settled himself on a nearby chaise.

"Open it."

"Wait," she murmured before reaching into her own pocket and withdrawing her gift to him. A quickly muttered charm allowed the wrapped box to return to its previous dimensions and with a blush lingering on her rounded cheeks, she passed it to him.

"I bought something for you..."

With that, she found a seat nearby and turned her attention to the small present he'd given her. Slim fingers plucked at the silver ribbon and the dark green paper until it lay open before her gaze. Inside the box was a delicate ring of platinum which held a gorgeous black opal and a setting mount in the shape of wings. It was beautifully wrought and probably cost more than she would ever see in a year. Hermione's breath caught and was released on a choked gasp.

"It's lovely Draco but I ..."

"It goes on your pinky, either hand. It's goblin-made and has various protection spells worked into the band. Put it on, please."

Hermione took in his stubborn expression and, with a sigh, slipped the ring onto her right pinky. For a brief moment, there was a slight tingle of magic as the ring resized to fit her slender finger. Hermione gave him a brief smile and a whispered "Thanks" before she watched the young wizard open his present. Only a few moments later, he beheld her own gifts to him; a pair of dragonhide gloves in dark green and a small muggle book of poetry by W H Auden, a first edition bound in dark leather.

"I figured you could use some new Quidditch gloves and I love W H Auden's work. I thought you might like it. My very favorite is Lullaby. It should be near the front."

"What is your favorite verse?"

Hermione paused and then spoke:

 **Certainty, fidelity**

 **On the stroke of midnight pass**

 **Like vibrations of a bell,**

 **And fashionable madmen raise**

 **Their pedantic boring cry:**

 **Every farthing of the cost,**

 **All the dreaded cards foretell,**

 **Shall be paid, but from this night**

 **Not a whisper, not a thought,**

 **Not a kiss nor look be lost.**

She allowed the silence to rush in and wrap them in separate solitude, a lullaby in truth. Draco's eyelids had drifted shut as he listened to each word but his expression soon gave way to drowning as gray eyes resumed looking at the pretty woman across from him, his mobile mouth turned upward in a sweet smile. When he spoke, Hermine could do no more than smile in response, as she relaxed under the pleasure of his regard. "Thank you. I will treasure both gifts. Now would you like to take a nap for a few hours or would you prefer to curl up here and read until it is time for us to get ready for dinner?"

"If I take a nap, will you stay with me?"

He nodded. "Of course."

She grinned at his immediate agreement and stood up. He soon joined her and placed his large hand at the base of her back, his way of guiding her from the room and ushering her toward the stairs. By the time they reached the hall that contained her room, Hermione's eyes were glazed with sleepiness. Slender fingers reached for the knob and opened the door so that the pair could enter.

With no further thought, Hermione stepped from her shoes and wandered toward the bed. She removed her jumper leaving behind only a thin camisole and shucked off her jeans which left her in nothing but a pair of women's boy cut panties. She heard a brief grunt and turned to face Draco, her eyes going immediately to his.

"I am sorry. I can't sleep in my clothes, nor do I expect you to do so."

He took her at her word and divested himself of everything barring a pair of silky black boxers. She noted as she gazed at his muscled yet lean form that his boxers appeared to be slightly tented. The beginnings of an erection? It hit her suddenly that she had stripped down before him, baring her small frame with its slim hips, small breasts, flat tummy and rounded butt to his gaze. Her eyes flew back to his, a blush tinting her cheeks. She did not want to apologize again but she was sure he could tell that she was wholly embarrassed. He said not a word, only walked sedately to her bed and settled himself under the blankets. She quickly joined him.

With a quiet sigh of contentment, she turned so that her back was pressed to his front. He wiggled one arm under her head as the other snaked around her to pull her closer before it settled upon her stomach, there to rub small soothing circles. Hermione allowed herself to nestle more completely against him and drifted into a light doze which ended in a deep sleep.

Hermione slept for a few hours and was awakened by Draco's large hand ghosting over her skin, from shoulder to mid-thigh and back again, soft strokes that raised gooseflesh with every touch. A quiet whimper announced her state and soon enough, he stopped with his hand just beneath her breast.

"Did I wake you," a quiet query.

"No."

"Good."

She noted, for the first time, something resting in the crack of her bum; long, rigid, and faintly pulsing. Part of her wanted to pull away, to roll until she was on the opposite side of the bed, to get to her feet and walk away. However, there was another part that enjoyed his excitement and wanted to feel him even closer. It was that part she listened to, for a brief moment, which caused her to roll over so that she faced him. She spent long moments staring at him, studying his aquiline features in silence before, finally; "Give us a kiss then..." she teased.

Draco did so, pulling her close and capturing her mouth with his own. Once again, he took his time, tasting her bottom lip, sucking the juicy fullness into his mouth, nibbling on it before repeating the actions with her top lip. Hermione endeavored to do the same and allowed her own questing tongue to stroke the seam of his lips until he opened for her on a growl. With barely a pause, the tall young man drew her closer before rolling her to her back. One large hand lifted her right leg and settled it over his thigh even as he pressed against her moist core. She whimpered loudly and stroked her fingers through the fine silk of his hair. His own growl met that tiny sound even as his hands began to glide over her uncovered flesh. Soon enough, he broke the kiss only to venture south to her throat, there to lave her pulse with nips, licks, and whispers.

"Tell me to stop, Hermione," he entreated. "I don't think I can do it on my own."

Hermione pressed her lips to the top of his head and stroked slim fingers over his nape and down to his shoulders, palms flat in a sort of massaging touch. Once, twice, even as her leg tightened for a brief moment to draw his heat, his hardness, ever closer. That motion drew yet another moan from the pair before finally, Hermione found the will to say the words.

"Stop, please."

Draco did so with a shudder and then glanced up, his dark charcoal gaze meeting her own wide brown eyes. He tried to smile, faltered and then tried it again. She smiled back and continued the slow touches.

"Obviously, we can't kiss if we are laying down, love."

She could not disagree.


	17. Taps the Fourth Wall

**The standard disclaimer applies...plus cookies. *smiles***

 **A/N: This chappie is just so much ridiculousness. I apologize in advance.**

 _ **Other People!**_

While Draco and Hermione were getting to know one another, circumstances were happening to other people who matter not one whit at this time but need to be talked about anyway because, reasons. (Taps on the fourth wall, very carefully)

And, so~

Harry and Ron had managed to struggle through the countless tests without the help of their once-constant companion. In Ron's case, the passing of these tests had been a very near thing. Luckily, for our Gruesome Twosome, it was in battle and procedure that they shone. Since that was the case, the pair were slightly ahead of the other Trainees and had taken it upon themselves to tutor those not so confident in the arts of strategy and offensive/defensive magic. After all, most trainees had not grown up on the run or hiding in the bowels of Hogwarts in a room formed specifically to help children train. The dynamic duo held an unfair advantage.

Daphne Greengrass, poor wench, had spent the hols being rather pissy about the way that the three most eligible bachelors of Slytherin house seemed to be off-market. Unlike Pansy, she didn't care one whit about bloodlines. She was NOT a racist. It was just so unfair! They were taken by two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw! Where was the justice in the world? Wasn't she smart and beautiful? Hell, she had the highest scores of any girl in her house!

So, yes, Daphne was most unhappy and her parents could hear it in her whimpering little moans and groans as she stalked through their large estate like someone had set her tail on fire. Even Astoria found her more annoying than usual. Eventually, the conversation had to be had~ you know the one that starts~ "Stop being a whiny bitch and settle down"? Yeah, she heard very polite variations of that until it was time to return to Hogwarts. However, it would not be long before she caught the attention of a certain raven-haired trainee. She didn't know that yet...and neither do YOU, dear reader. So just ignore that little tidbit of information

Pansy.

Oh, Pansy, Pansy, Pansy.

The pugnacious (HA!) semi beauty had withdrawn after the fight in the Slytherin common room. It had hurt her to see Drake wrapped up in that stupid mud-um muggle-born witch and it felt like the ultimate slap when he'd left her there without a second look after the embarrassment she'd suffered at Granger's hands. To top it all off, she'd had to return home to deal with her father, a man with the brains of a gnat and the temper of a raging hippogriff. Somehow, Draco hooking up with the mud-um- muggle-born whore had set him off and by the end of the holiday, she felt as if her migraine would be with her forever.

In all honesty? She was unsure as to why any of it mattered anymore. It wasn't like her father had run to the Dark Lord's side. He had paid lip service (and sometimes galleons) but never more than that. He was neither helped nor hindered when the Dark Lord rose or was vanquished. Nothing changed. He still held his businesses, still kept a bit more money on hand than the Malfoy's, especially since that family had paid (at least) one of their vaults in reparations. He should have been fine. They should have been fine. They weren't though. For that very reason, Pansy had received the brunt of his temper.

She was glad to go back to Hogwarts. Beyond glad, really.

Far away, in the land down under, a couple in their late forties had stopped to speak with a young lady who reminded them of someone. The chit of a girl had wildly curling raven tresses and a small nose with a few freckles just across the bridge of it. There were certain mannerisms (she talked with her hands a lot) that reminded the pair so much of another person, a young girl that they'd maybe seen in passing. Someone. Somewhere. Soon enough, the impromptu trio had said their farewells and moved apart. However, if someone had been close enough to hear the couple afterward, they would have heard the woman say, "The name started with an H, right?"

There were arguments and snowball fights, kisses and punches, sledding and hot cocoa made with fresh nutmeg and whipped cream. Oh, whipped cream. Basically, what I am trying to tell you is that life went on. No couple ever existed in a vacuum, not even our beloved Dramione (or Blinny, NottGood, Haphne, Ronsy~ you know the drill). Oh, look at that~ fourth wall totally broken! Ahem...

So think about all of this as we dive back into the story.


	18. Apologies and Matchmaking

Almost a week before Valentine's Day, an owl tapped at her dorm window. He was large, like an Eagle owl, and beautifully plumed. Since Hermione was not expecting anything, she had rushed to the window and let the pretty bird inside, her slim fingers immediately reaching for the envelope held in its right claw. Soon enough, a smile blossomed:

 **Hermione~**

 **What's this I hear about you and Malfoy? Ginny and Zabini? We left you two on your own and you both lose your minds? I don't understand it. Okay, maybe I do understand about Ginny. Though Zabini was an arse to you (most of the old Slytherin guard was) they never had much to do with Ginny but you and Malfoy?**

 **Tell me that we heard wrong. Better yet tell me what in the nine bloody hells is going on outside of this place where we yell and beat on each other all day before sitting down with fingers that do not like quills and try to answer questions that we know the answers to but not when its on parchment, like it's just jumbled at that point.**

 **Wait...**

 **How are you enjoying your last year? Did Ginny tell you about us? Was she hurt? Is Zabini like a rebound bloke? I worry. Not like Ron but I do worry, so ease my mind, please. Also, do you know we are running a mini DA here? We blame you for the inability to not teach people better ways of doing things.**

 **Anyway, write us back or you will be very sorry, in another six months when we can escape for longer than an hour or two.**

 **Love;**

 **Harry and Ron**

Hermione felt laughter as it bubbled up from deep within. She had forgotten that Ron and Harry had not been party to all of the changes that had happened this year. Hell, it wasn't even Valentine's Day yet but there were so many new couples, different pairings, random blow-ups and meltdowns that Hogwarts was beginning to feel a lot like a daytime soap opera. So, after offering the Ministry's owl a treat, she'd wandered out of her dorm in the hopes of catching Ginny. However, the redhead was not in the Gryffindor tower, anywhere. Within moments, Seamus noticed the bushy-hared female's searching gaze and answered her unvoiced query.

"Hermione! If you are looking for Ginny, she's probably practicing on the pitch."

The slender witch turned and gave her friend a small grin though she wondered how he'd gotten the impression that she was looking for Ginny. With a mental shrug and an internal eye roll, Hermione thanked him and turned away to retrieve her favorite pea coat, gloves and hat (with a bobble on the top no less!) A minute later, the young woman left the tower behind and headed out, her mind whirling with ideas of the response she would craft for her boys. It was in this state that she happened to bump into Daphne who seemed to be more thoughtful than usual.

"Granger, could I speak with you for a moment," the beautiful brunette queried.

Hermione paused and turned to face the other female, hands dangling loosely by her sides. "Sure," she responded.

"Look I just wanted to apologize. Things have been unusual for all of us this past year and I haven't handled all of the changes so well. I know I said hateful things to you after the Ball and you were well within your rights to put both Pansy and me in our place. I will just say that I had harbored a small hope that I would end up with Draco before the war, barring Pansy, and seeing you two at the Ball dashed that hope, spectacularly."

The frizzy-haired female nodded. "I am sure it was a shock for quite a few people but I do thank you for the apology. Draco has spoken kindly of you and your little sister since we began our relationship. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that you were not raised like most purebloods so, I hoped that after you had dealt with the fallout, you and I could at least try and be friendly with one another."

Daphne gave a slight shrug though her features showed just the faintest traces of remorse. "Jealousy is a hell of a thing." The young woman started to walk away but Hermione joined her in an effort to continue their conversation. Once the poised young woman noted Hermione's presence, she broke the tenuous silence, once more. "I am the eldest daughter, you know, and in pureblood society, I should already be betrothed. I guess I feel awful about not having any real match with anyone from my year."

"But how do you know that? Have you looked outside of Slytherin? I mean there are other young men who would love to know you. Hell, Harry would have given his left arm, at one point, just for you to smile at him, especially during our fourth year. You Slytherins are fairly insular though."

Daphne cocked her head and paused once more. "Potter? Do you still talk to him?"

Hermione nodded, "Of course, he and Ron are still my best friends! They just chose to join the Aurors instead of returning for their final year."

"Oh." Finally, the pair ended up at the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Hermione reached out with one slender hand to touch the svelte young woman's arm.

"Thanks for talking to me and hey, don't discount the other houses. Hell, I'll even put in a good word for you with Harry if you'd like."

Daphne grinned. "Maybe you should."

Once they parted ways, Hermione continued toward the pitch but found Ginny and Blaise on their way back inside, laughing and holding hands.

"Gin! I was looking for you. I need your help with a response to a letter from the boys." She turned toward the dark-skinned young man with a grin. "May I steal her away for an hour or so, Zabini?"

"Sure," he laughed. "We won't be able to meet up again until dinner anyway."

After a quick kiss for the gorgeous Slytherin, Ginny reached out to snag Hermione's arm and the trio soon became a pair as they split off, the girls headed back to their tower and Blaise headed for wherever.

"So, what's the to do," Ginny questioned.

"The boys asked some questions about us and the Snakes," here, a small giggle. "I figured you could help with the explanation."

"Ah, that's easy! Two words, Fuck. Off."

Hermione laughed, "Not quite the response I feel they deserve. Harry is worried about you, so is Ron. Both of them are convinced I am insane," she continued as the young women began to climb the stairs which would lead, eventually, to the Tower. "I don't want to get into the Veela thing so I need help with the wording to avoid incoming howlers."

The fiery redhead guffawed thus earning a mock pout from the bushy-haired know-it-all. After a solid minute of tom-foolery, the chortle subsided and Ginny, red-faced from merriment, resumed her forward motion.

"Just tell them you like him. That he's changed and, though you love them, you do NOT require their permission. Easy, yeah?"

Hermione nodded and a few moments later, the pair arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait. A whispered password gained them entrance and soon enough, they were comfortably ensconced in Hermione's room. Moments later, parchment and quills were put to use. And if Hermione added a postscript for Harry after Ginny made her escape? Well, that was her business.

 _P.S. Harry-reach out Daphne Greengrass, yeah?_

 _I think it could be worthwhile._


	19. Help!

**Disclaimer: Still own nothing. JK Rowling is still a goddess. Harry Potter makes me happy even though I don't own anything to do with it and this story makes me no money.**

 **A/N~ The problem with loving a story that you are writing is the fact that you keep getting ahead of yourself. At this point, I am about five chapters ahead of what I have posted. It is a sick thing. Also, can I just give a shout out to those who have favorited my story? It made me super happy to see so thank you. Also, constructive criticism is love. Hell, reviews are love but the constructive criticism will help me do better. *nods* Anyway, read on!**

Things had grown more difficult for Draco. He could smell Hermione all of the time, could sense her like a bloodhound, track her movements without even seeing her and EVERY TIME a male touched her, he wanted to rip their faces off and then lock her in a room until she agreed to never let another man near. It was bad business and it was starting to scare him. He could no longer touch her, not without fangs itching to erupt from his gums. No hugs, no sweet kisses. Nothing. It was hell.

Of course, he did not tell her and he could see that his withdrawal was beginning to worry her. He felt her emotions as if they were his own and that only added to his anxiety. Of course, he had vented to Blaise and Theo. Someone needed to be aware of how much difficulty he was having, how badly he ached to just TAKE her. He found himself worried about that, his inability to trust himself. Rape. That is what it would be if he could not get a hold of himself. There was no way to pretty it up. The longer this lasted, the worse it could be, would be, for her.

So he kept away, even though something inside screeched for him to take her, claim her, MATE her.

Fuck.

Maybe he should talk to her. Try to explain. He had thought this many times but in the end, he'd back off. Luckily for him, his two best friends had no compunction on setting Hermione straight.

"Hermione, we need to talk."

Theo and Blaise had found Hermione in her favorite corner of the library, surrounded by books and parchment, a streak of ink across her right cheek. The frizzy-haired female glanced at the pair and sat up, her gaze landing on Blaise as he was the one who had spoken,

"Yes," she asked, voice low.

It was Theo who took up the conversation, his words like stones. "You are pushing Draco. We all know that you've agreed to consider his needs after getting to know him. We also know that he told you that his urges concerning you were already strong and he was not sure if he could hold on longer than a month or two." He paused, his head tilted as one large hand came up to swipe his hair away from his face. Blaise took up the narrative.

"He can't touch you now, he says. Can't kiss you. Hasn't been able to since the end of January. Don't you wonder why? He's scared. Scared that he will take your choice away because he wants you so fucking badly. He says it's like a fever." Blaise quirked an eyebrow at her, his dark eyes gleaming with something close to anger. "He told you that he didn't expect it to be as difficult as it had been the night of the Yule Ball, didn't he? Explained about how hard it was with you being right here, so close? Why does he still wait, especially when you know all of this?"

Theo intervened, "I know you told his mum that you intended to allow the bond," His deep bass was almost gentle. "What's the problem, Hermione?"

The young woman looked between the two men, her whiskey-colored eyes gleaming with sadness and a hint of fear. She knew that there was an issue but, for once, her Gryffindor courage had deserted her. Hermione trusted Draco but to bond with him forever? She was scared. What if it hurt? She'd never been intimate with anyone. Sure she knew the mechanics but the experience would be far different. With a shake of her head, she explained all of that in two words.

"I'm terrified."

Theo nodded and tugged at his shirt sleeve. "I know. So is Draco. You are the one that has to fix this, though, before neither of you has a choice."

Hermione sighed and stood up. "Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Make him go to dinner so I can get to his room, okay? I will fix this."

The slender brunette gathered her things and slipped them into her satchel with fingers that trembled. Once she'd cleared away her work, she turned to the two young men, once more.

"Don't tell him."

Then she walked away.

Blaise and Theo stared at one another, matching frowns marring their aristocratic features. Neither man felt particularly happy about practically forcing Hermione to deal with the mate bond but their best friend was losing his control and they both felt that it was better to be safe, rather than sorry. Much better for Hermione to get it over with rather than waiting for Draco's tenuous control to falter. So, with no further words between them, the pair turned and followed the bushy-haired female out of the library, their own footsteps leading them to the Dungeons.

As for Hermione? She headed for the Tower and hopefully, help from Ginny. Anxiety raced through her, caused her knees to shake, her steps to be unsteady, her head to pound. If she was going to accept the first mark, then she was determined to finish the entire bond tomorrow night and she knew she would need help. She needed to find out more about what she should expect from the sexual aspect because it wasn't the marks that scared her nor the bond.

No, it was fear of trying and failing at something humans have been doing for eternity. Of offering herself and being found shoddy.

Just as she reached the third set of stairs leading toward the Gryffindor Tower, she heard footsteps headed in her direction and heard a female voice, call out; "Hermione? Wait up!"

The slim young woman paused and turned around, only to be greeted by Daphne Greengrass.

"Hey."

"Hello, Daphne. What's the issue?"

The beautiful young woman stopped a few feet away, her clear features lit by a lovely smile.

"Potter wrote to me. He said you told him that he should reach out."

Hermione smiled, "Yes. I did. I am glad that he took my advice." A slight pause. "He was a gentleman, right? Or do I have to threaten him through the mail?"

The other woman laughed, a husky sound but delightful, nonetheless. "Oh no, he was a perfect gentleman. No hexes or howlers necessary. I just wanted to thank you. Even if nothing comes of this, it feels nice to talk to a male with no preconceived notions."

"Yeah, Harry is a take it as it comes kind of guy and I figured exchanging letters would be easier for you both. Harry is shy, kind of backward even, and beautiful women always leave him stammering and blushing." Hermione gave the other witch a slow once-over. "You are, as I am sure you well know, bloody gorgeous. I figure six months to a year is plenty of time to find out if you two mesh, yeah?"

"True. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. Most times, in Slytherin House, we are looking for ways to gain an advantage in any given situation, even with our friends. It is rare for one of us to keep our word without expecting an even trade, promise for a promise, debt for a debt, favor for a favor. It is what we thrive on."

"Just don't go out of your way to manipulate my friend. He is brash, courageous, and honest to a fault but he can sniff out lies and manipulation like no one else." The words were forceful but evenly spoken. "Anyway, I am really happy that he contacted you." Hermione looked toward the next set of stairs that she was about to ascend. "I got to run. Thanks for letting me know. This makes me smile."

Daphne grinned. "Okay, I won't keep you, Have a good night."

The girls parted ways and soon enough, Hermione was back in the Gryffindor common room and tugging Ginny from an armchair located entirely too close to the fireplace.

"Talk to me! I need you!"

Ginny yelped and stood. "All right, keep your shirt on, lady."


	20. Valentine's Day (It Has Begun)

**Standard Disclaimer applies~ you know, I don't own it, am making no money and JK Rowling is love.**

Talking to Ginny had helped the slender young witch deal with a goodly portion of her nerves. Well enough that, the next morning, she'd gone to Dumbledore to ask for permission for the two of them to travel to Hogsmeade (or Diagon Alley). With that request granted, the pair had set about finding something appropriate for Hermione to wear for the impending visit to Draco's rooms later that night.

"I still think you would have done well to get that spider silk nighty. It looked great on you, all ivory and virginal," Ginny complained. "Why would you want to look like something you aren't?"

"Because Gin! I need something to give me confidence. Looking like what I am will not build me up.," was the worried female's response. "I need something that will still...be..." Her voice faded out as her gaze landed on a lace and satin confection in a lovely emerald green. The nightgown was floor length and had a slit up to the center of the left thigh and came with a matching pair of thongs.

"That, Gin."

Ginny turned to see what had caught her friend's eye. "Oh, hell yeah! That is perfect. Covers everything and hints at even more. Brilliant color." The redhead hurried toward the rack and pulled it off. "Try it on!"

With a blush and a sigh, Hermione hurried to do just that. She stepped into the large fitting room and turned away from the ornate mirror on the back of the door before she quickly stripped out of her clothes. She felt a shiver of apprehension as she stepped into the small satin thong but straightened her spine and shook the worries away. Once her heartbeat had resumed it's normal cadence, she tugged the floor length gown over her head and smoothed the beautiful piece of lingerie over the subtle curves of her hips, bum and small bust. With a surge of bravery, she turned to face the mirror and gave a small gasp.

She looked good.

The color brought out the amber tones hidden within the mess of her curls and deepened the whiskey color of her eyes. The halter neckline brought her barely B cup breasts in and up, causing just the merest hint of cleavage. Everything was covered in satin from the waist up, while thick Venetian lace flowed from that spot to the floor, obscuring her legs except for when she moved. She nodded to herself and grinned.

This would be perfect.

The door flew open and Ginny barged in. "Well fuck me running, Hermione. You look great! Probably going to have to get it tailored a bit as it is just a touch too long. I'd say at least four inches, right? And the waist needs to be brought in. I an sure Pauline can do it in no time."

No more than an hour later, the girls were back at Hogwarts and had gone their separate ways with Hermione headed for the Great Hall and lunch. Of course, the slim young woman didn't have much of an appetite, her nerves made sure that was an impossibility, but she knew that she wouldn't eat dinner and she had to get something in her stomach. As she settled at the Gryffindor table, she found her eyes drawn to the Slytherin side but, once again, Draco was not there.

Where was he?

Well, the young man in question was in his private bath, soaking in sandalwood and musk-scented bubbles, his pale and pointed features almost blank. His nerves had been on high alert ever since Theo and Blaise had returned from their conversation with his witch and informed him that they had given Hermione an ultimatum, of sorts. He found himself rather put out by their thought processes but could understand why they felt it was the best option. If he did not trust himself with her, how much longer before the reason for that distrust manifested?

Best not to chance it.

The lean young man closed his eyes and sunk further beneath the heated water until only his neck and head remained uncovered. A large black towel was folded and placed behind him, a pillow of sorts, as he thought on just what his witch would do. Would she attempt to run? Or would she be the consummate Lioness and search him out. Either idea had its appeal. If she ran, he would be forced to go after her and something inside thought giving chase would be brilliant. However, he hoped she would choose to come to him. It would be easier to keep the violence to a minimum.

 _'Much easier to make her mine if she would just holds still.'_

The rest of the day between lunch and dinner was filled with the same inanities as every other slow Sunday at Hogwarts. Students studied, gossiped, argued, snogged, probably shagged and in the midst of it all was Hermione, who felt so far out of step as to be a relic of times past. By half three, she was a wreck and knew that she would be better off if she withdrew to her room and took a nap.

 _'Sleep. I guess I should set my alarm for about five or so. Have Winkle bring me a sandwich and some pumpkin juice before I have to get ready.'_

The thought gave her chills. Did she want to get ready, to do whatever it was she was going to have to do? _'Sex. Just sex.'_ That thought was not conducive to a calm mind. Hermione blanked it all out and made her way to the tower from the library, only three floors. No problem. Of course, the staircase which joined the northeast corridor from the south decided that it didn't like her and Peeves, the bastard, threw something at her before she'd ever reached the sixth floor. By the time she'd reached the Gryffindor Tower and her room inside, she was no more than a nervous Nelly and in immediate need of a strong drink.

She made due with a cup of cocoa and a nap, instead.

An hour later, Theo and Blaise were explaining to Draco in the Slytherin common room, yet again, that he had to come with them to the Great Hall at dinner time.

"Why," he demanded.

"Because Hermione asked us to make sure you were there instead of here.," Blaise immediately answered, completely ignoring Hermione's wish that he NOT be told.

"Don't you think, if she is trying to gather up her courage, the least you could do is what she asks?" That was Theo's take on the situation.

"But it's stupid." Yes. Draco was in pouting ferret mode.

"We are going, Malfoy! So be ready," Blaise gave his final edict before he turned and marched away. He had much better things to do, such as a pretty Gryffindor who needed his utmost attention out on the pitch, and he was already late. "I am going to find Ginevra!"

Theo groaned dramatically. "Just do this mate. Who knows, after tonight, most of your issues could be over. Anyway, I have to meet Luna in the library. Blaise and I will be back for you at half six."

With that, Theo was gone and Draco found himself alone, staring at the flames within the vast fireplace and wondering, not for the first time, how his life had spiraled so far out of his control.

"Bloody hell."


	21. Be Mine

**Disclaimer: Only this story is mine. All recognizable characters, situations, world building and the like belong to JK Rowling. Also no moolah.**

By a little past seven, Hermione had buffed, shaved, bathed, oiled and plucked herself into the very essence of soft femininity. Her new negligee (as well as her school uniform and robes for the following day) had been placed into her beaded bag and she was dressed in comfortable clothes; leggings and a long sweater. She had even gathered her hair into a high topknot. She didn't worry with make-up as she was shaking far too badly to apply it properly and she didn't know any of those sorts of charms. All in all, she was as ready as she was going to get and she knew it.

Time to beard a dragon in his den.

Within ten minutes, the frightened young woman found herself inside Draco's room. Her pulse throbbed, much like her head, and she felt exceedingly short of breath but she was bound and determined to prepare herself. So it was off to his bathroom, there to change out of her clothes and slip into her nightgown. Long minutes were spent brushing her hair and studying herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door all while she struggled to calm her heart rate and breathe. Eventually, she was in control.

She released a shaky exhale and moved back into Draco's bedroom and pulled a few candelabra from her little bag. One set was placed by his bed, another on his dresser, a third on the large oak desk. The next step was to decorate his room with flower petals but only certain ones; Bittersweet for truth, Bluebell for humility, white sprigs of Ivy for affection and Lily petals in white for virginity. The air was soon sweetly scented and was further warmed once she'd lit the candles and the fire.

She settled into a leather armchair to wait for him.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, Draco entered his room and paused, his sharp gaze taking in the flower petals and soft light. At first, he did not notice Hermione as she was seated in the corner farthest from the door but he could smell her and it was her scent that drew him closer. He only paused once she rose from her seat.

"You are here," he said, an obvious statement and one that made Hermione smile.

"Yes. Theo and Blaise came to see me..."

However, Draco reached out and pulled her forward, his large hand wrapped around her left wrist so that he could study the picture she presented. His breath stopped. She looked beautiful, shy and sweet yet oddly provocative. He knew, without being told, that the emerald green nighty was for him, that it was new and purchased that day, that she was scared but resolute.

"What do you want," his voice rumbled, low and seductive.

"To be yours," was her soft reply.

"Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded but he could feel the tremors as they raced over her skin. He thought that, if she left right now, he'd be able to refrain from taking her but it could be a very near thing. He tried to find the words to explain, to warn her, but she shook her head as the hand which was not held immobile in his loose grip rose to place one finger to his lips.

"I'm scared but not of the mark. I'm scared because I don't know what to do and I do not want you to be unhappy," she whispered. "Will you show me?"

He did not give her words in response. Instead, he tugged her close, wrapped one arm around her waist as the other released her wrist and moved up, there to tilt her head back so that he could give his answer with a kiss. Her scent, warm and sweet and almost woodsy, surrounded him, caused his hand to drift south and linger as it coasted over the swell of her bum and the slight roundness of her hip. That kiss became a second and then a third and by the time he drew back, his witch was flushed and finding breath hard to come by.

"I thank you for the flowers and I will take care of you, kitten, I promise. However, first I have to get comfortable. I hope you brought clothes for tomorrow as you will not be leaving until breakfast."

Hermione blushed, a wash of deep pink tinted her neck and face in embarrassment. Yet, she had prepared for this eventuality and told him so, He smiled then and directed her attention toward his bed.

"Get comfortable, kitten," was his final command before he disappeared into his bathroom.

Hermione, unable to relax and in need of something to do, retrieved a baggie from her beaded bag and with a wandless "Accio flower petals!", cleared them from the various surfaces of his room and gathered them together. She had every intention of making her mate a potpourri from the petals, eventually, and did not want to lose them. Once she stashed the full baggie into her small purse, she placed the rectangular beaded bag on his chest of drawers and turned to stare, cautiously, at his bed.

That was how Draco found her once he'd returned- staring straight ahead, hands fidgeting, breath almost a gust. He smiled at the picture she made and vowed to himself, if not to her, that he would do everything he could think of to help her relax. Being a young man who would readily admit to his own selfishness meant that he knew her relaxation would make things easier, and better, for him, therefore, his own nervousness required it. Reading about a bond, learning about the marks, was far different in reality and anything he could do would take away pressure. Silently, he moved behind her and wrapped both arms around her, pulling her back against his long, lean, muscular frame.

She jumped slightly and then relaxed at his words.

"I thought I said to get comfortable," he grumbled.

She gave a small sigh, "You did,"

"I told you, kitten. I will take care of you. Now, lay down."

And so, she moved to the large four poster bed and did as he'd asked.

 **A/N: The next two chapters will be the marking and as such, expect lemons.**


	22. The Claiming Part 1

**Standard Disclaimer applies.**

 **A/N: Here there be lemons.**

She felt those cool gray eyes on her. They roamed her skin, much like his fingers would if he were closer. The ambient temperature of the room seemed to both raise and lower as heat and coolness seeped under the lace and satin gown she'd chosen to wear, for him. Her heart thundered and yet the rhythm was not a solid lub dub, instead, it raced and paused until she felt short of breath, until her body trembled as if it was about to fly apart.

He studied her.

He noted the length of her well-formed legs, the taut flesh that slipped over her ankles and wrists. He saw the small rise of her breasts, less than a handful if one were to judge by his hands but beautifully shaped. He allowed his gaze to take her in, his nose to breathe her in. He reveled in the hot joy her presence provided but forced himself to wait. He could do it, lose himself in the indentation of her waist, the flatness of her belly, the surprising curve of her hip. He could wait...

Wait.

Wait.

Just as Hermione's breathing and pulse had returned to something akin to normal, Draco moved to the other side of the bed. At first, he settled beside her, his body's impulse held in check by sheer force of will. He wanted, wanted but no. Slowly, one large hand reached out to embrace her, to tug her closer. The small female slipped near, body almost relaxed as she turned so that they were aligned, front to back.

She felt the soft stroke of his long fingers from shoulder to hip. Once. Again. With almost no thought, she wiggled closer, the roundness of her bum pressed lightly against his groin and the hardness trapped behind silk and flannel. He growled but his hands were slow and steady. Before he nuzzled into her nape, he pulled her hair up, so that it spread across the pillow but left her shoulders and throat, bare. She soon felt his mouth, tongue, teeth there, on those sensitive bits of flesh.

A whimper.

His hand drifted over satin and lace, moving ever forward until one calloused thumb could brush gently over a hidden nipple. Her body shuddered and another, smaller whimper was released. His laughter followed soon after. It was a wholly masculine sound, brimming with hunger, desire, want and she felt herself become distracted until his thumb started to rub light circles around the taut coral bud beneath emerald satin.

She hadn't noticed, not at first, but he had maneuvered them so that she rested on a pillow and his left arm while his right arm was free to torment, to pluck and tease. Both hands stroked, the right far more than the other, both hands weighed and measured and neither found her wanting. She could tell by the insistent prodding of his hot length in the cleft of her bum.

When had she started grinding against him?

Somehow, the lace which covered her legs was tugged up and away so that he could raise her right leg and place it over his own, thus opening her for his inquisitive fingers. She felt that warm hand slip between thighs that were suddenly shaking, felt those slim fingers stroke softly over damp flesh which grew in wetness until she felt as if her thongs were practically sheer. And there were so many words, his voice a growl.

"So wet for me. This is all mine. Right here. Pretty kitten. So wet."

A long finger invaded her sex, pumped in and out at a steady pace while his warm palm pressed flat against the sensitive nub of flesh which hid between her slick folds. Was that her crying out? Was it only in her head? She could not tell, did not know, could only feel as he stroked her, as he whispered dirty things which drew gasps from between suddenly dry lips.

"I can't wait to fuck you, kitten. Make you scream my name. Always, my name. I bet you taste like apples, the golden yellow ones. Tart and sweet. Delicious. Would you like it if I tasted you? Just once?"

She had no chance to answer because his finger, his hand, his words had conspired against her and drawn her toward a heated light which broke as she shuddered against him, body taut as a bowstring, whimpers low and breathy, needy. Hungry. She was edging toward something and he pushed her, pushed her until she flew apart with a low cry.

She heard his laughter and knew that he was nowhere near finished because with a word, her nightwear was gone and she was nude beneath those questing hands. She soon discovered his nudity but he wouldn't kiss her, wouldn't let her touch him. He just rolled her onto her back and settled between her thighs, his own nude frame a sudden jolt against her overheated flesh.

Again she felt his teeth and tongue at the juncture between shoulder and neck but it was far more intense, harder. He drifted lower, to tease her erect nipples with warm suction and nibbles, teeth surrounding those delicate bits of flesh like a delicacy. Right and left, his mouth heated, his fingers more so, leaving neither breast unloved. Pulling, tugging. Biting. Shrieking.

His hands roamed constantly except for when she tried to touch him in return.

"Later, you can touch me later. Hands over your head, kitten. Grip the pillow."

And, just when she thought she would cry from too much, too much, he showed her just how wrong she had been as he slipped between her golden thighs and supped at the slick slit hidden between them. Her legs tried to clamp shut but his broad shoulders did not allow such movement and she was too far gone to really feel the embarrassment this would have garnered otherwise. His tongue flicked against sensitive flesh, stroked from her drenched entrance to her clitoris and back again and she could do nothing but cry out and writhe beneath him.

He chuckled as two fingers invaded her hot, wet core and scissored open and shut, stretching her, stretching her. His lips enclosed that small pink pearl of flesh and sucked until she came crying and then a small shift as he felt the urge, the need, the desire to bite. His mouth opened wide, fangs slid into place and (just at the juncture between her thigh and warm cunt) found their way home, sending his kitten rocketing into a scream of pleasure/pain/panic. Blood touched his tongue, her blood, warm and sweet and oh how he sucked and laved until she fell back.

First mark.

Did she know? Did not matter. If she wanted to stop now, he could. He could. Even if he hated the idea of leaving a thing half done. He would wait. The hunger wasn't as forceful, not as strong, did not ride beneath his skin, fighting him. But it seemed that none of that mattered to her because as soon as he licked that mark to stop the bleeding, her small hands had found the corn silk of his hair and YANKED.

"Please," she whimpered, "Please oh please," she begged.

He could smell her desperation, her desire, her hunger. It bathed him in warm apples and wood smoke, summer flowers. So he kissed his way up from her nether lips to the full pink ones on her face and as his mouth settled against her own, he used one large hand to draw her right leg up toward his hip, bending it slightly at the knee. As soon as she shifted, her wetness bathed him, seeping from her molten core and down onto the hardness of his prick, slicking the skin there.

He adjusted, pressed the wide head into the hot opening between sodden cunt lips and thrust forward, slowly. Hermione jerked beneath him, her hips trying to angle up so that they could be joined quicker but it was almost as if he was ignoring her. He never sped up, even when she begged, even when she pleaded. And though only half her mind thought on it at the time, at no point did she feel any pain, only a slight stretching as his length breached her entry.

 _'The hymen? Mum said...'_ Long moments later, he was seated deeply within her and all thought ceased.


	23. The Claiming Part 2

**Standard disclaimer applies.**

 **A/N: Again, here there be lemons.**

Draco paused, his body awash in sensations. She was tight, so tight. Warm, wet, whimpering. As he levered himself up to rest on his elbows, he found himself almost distracted by the faint smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Maybe it wasn't truly a distraction. More than likely it was his insatiable need to thrust, to move, but the knowledge that she wasn't yet ready so he held still and he studied her face~ the wrinkle of her brow, the wideness of her whiskey-colored eyes, the pout of her full bottom lip.

That sight distracted him yet again and without thought, he leaned down to capture her mouth with his own in a searing kiss that soon became all teeth and tongue. By then, Hermione had relaxed further and hitched her other leg up so that he was slightly deeper and trapped between the tilt of her hips and the grip of her thighs. Her hands tugged at the hair which lay on his nape, brisk, demanding and as he broke the kiss, he heard her whisper, "Move."

So he did.

At first, the motion was slow and deep as Draco forced himself to keep a tight rein on his control. He ignored her hands as they drifted to his shoulders and latched there, her nails leaving half-moons in his flesh as she tried to force him closer, deeper, faster. He felt the flutter of her inner walls as they gripped, released, pulsed but he had this. He could do this and she could not break his...concentration. Well, not until she began to rock against him, her breath a whimper, moan, sigh until words leaked into the stillness, words like "Please" and "More" and "Draco."

Before he knew it, he had pulled her legs higher so that they wrapped his waist even as his hands scooped her bum and tilted her further upward. He needed to pound into her as his mouth nestled against her pulse, teeth, and tongue marking her, marking that spot, his spot. He claimed her neck in much the same way as his length plundered her hot core. Thoroughly, desperately, hungrily. He felt the pain as her nails raked his back but ignored it as he felt the heft of his balls draw up and in, presaging his own upcoming explosion.

Faster, then.

And then her teeth found the spot just below his collarbone and LATCHED, sucking, sucking and a wind whipped through him, over him, around them until he could feel, taste, sense, know nothing but her and this moment, this time, this need to ravage and take and claim until she was thoroughly and irrevocably his and no one else's. That, then, was the second mark and he knew that there was no way he would turn away, turn back, cease, desist because she'd claimed him, hadn't she? Said with her mouth and her body "He is mine..." and he loved it, loved her.

Full stop.

He withdrew and he felt the whimper and cry that she released even before he heard it. His large hands stroked her flesh, soothing, soothing but he had to tell her. Warn her, give her a choice, a chance and so, forehead to forehead he whispered, "That was the second mark, Hermione. Do you want to finish this?"

She nodded. Oh, Merlin, she nodded and so he groaned and then spoke, his voice husky, gravelly, "Then flip over to your hands and knees."

He reared up and away, rested on his haunches while stroking his length, surrounded by her scent, a scent that beckoned him closer and saturated his skin, her skin, the very air around them. He noted the small splotches of blood upon his shaft but ignored them. He knew that she would bleed and it was not nearly as bad as he thought it would be so he acted as if it was not there and he watched, waited as his beloved "MINE!" flipped over and positioned herself, her long hair blocking her face and curling wildly down her back.

One large hand found her hip as the other guided his length back into her hot, tight, core~ slowly, so slowly. Once he was seated, he switched hands, so that he could wrap the fall of her tresses around his fist, pulling her head back so that her hips and bum shifted, drawing him deeper. She whined and gave a sigh, a whisper of his name.

And he began, again.

Harder, faster, deeper. A steady rhythm which grew and grew and grew until she was shrieking and writhing and begging and pleading and when he felt those velvet walls clench and flutter, wrapping him so tightly that he feared his ability to move, he pulled her so that she rested on his thighs and thrust up, over and over again, pounding. Sweat poured from the pair, rivers of it, and just as he felt the tingle that heralded his release he jerked her tight against him and bit down, fangs piercing the flesh, magic, swirling. She screamed and he tumbled after her.

And when it was done? She was finally, irrevocably, totally...his.

Finally, he released the bite, licked it, sealed it and then slipped from her heated depths before gently curling her into him and guiding her down, to lay upon his bed. The silence was deafening as hearts and breaths eased. Yet, the pair stayed locked together, bodies a jigsaw puzzle of flesh and bone. There were kisses and nuzzles as repletion took over, as sleep crept forward on little cat feet until gray and brown eyes fluttered closed...and stayed that way.

They awakened with the dawn, their bodies joined once more, moving in tandem, soft, slow. Rocking together, benediction. Completion, two halves, one whole. When they were finished? They found his shower and bathed together, learning the flesh without candlelight. They dressed in silence as words were not required and slipped from the haven of his room to find their way, together, to breakfast and the Great Hall.

He could feel her, and she could feel him, their emotions a tangle of love and bliss and silence, even across the great expanse that divided them. Smiles were given, small, secret but there and if Theo and Blaise patted themselves on the back for a job well done? It was of no importance. And if Ginny noticed the love bites and faint scarring of the mark? Not a word was said.

It was okay, more than okay. They had found a home.

 **A/N: Okay the Marking is complete (and so are the lemons, for now) and I have finally reached the point where all that I have written has been posted. So as I've warned, I will be adapting to once a week, usually Fridays. If I can edit and such, then I may post faster but don't bet on it. Until next time.**


	24. Let's Talk About Ginny and Blaise

**Disclaimer~ don't own it, make no money from it and JK Rowling makes me happy.**

 **A/N: This little fluff ball of Blinny goes out to slytherinxnadxgirl because Blinny is love. Though I base my Blaise on the sexy chocolate thing from the films and I am pretty sure she prefers the Itallion Stallion version, it's all the same innit? I mean, Blinny...*smiles***

It was the middle of March and Blaise found himself sitting in a bubble of charmed warmth next to the hellion who'd been driving him barmy for months. Of course, he would never tell her that. Ginevra Weasley would have no trouble tormenting him with that knowledge as well as making him pay for every unkind remark he'd ever uttered about anyone she knew. No. Telling the redheaded witch that he had feelings for her, feelings that he was absolutely positive were not reciprocated, would only end in tears. No way he was going to admit to that.

"Zabini? What are you thinking," Ginny queried before tossing her long red hair over one supple shoulder.

Blaise glanced at the witch, his dark mocha eyes studying her with an intensity she definitely noticed. With a shake of his head, the gorgeous Slytherin deflected the question before turning the conversation back to her; her thoughts, her emotions, her wants.

"Nothing. Well, that's not true. I have a question for you, Ginevra. Where do you see this," Here he flapped his hand so that it pointed from her to him, "Going? Am I something to do until Potty is done training? I mean not that I mind if that's the case but if that is so, should I be looking for someone to warm my bed?"

Ginny glanced at the beautiful man next to her, his beautiful caramel complexion, the short dark hair, the breadth of his shoulders, length of his muscular legs and she knew, without a doubt, that her answer would either encourage what they'd started during the Ball or would end it. She couldn't tell him that she had no intention of allowing Harry close enough to rekindle their love affair. Not only had The-Man-Who-Lived hurt her, good reason or not, but she found herself far too attached to Blaise to walk away, well not unless he forced her to.

But how to explain that without coming off like a weak little girl?

She laughed silently to herself. There was no way she was going to put her heart out there just for him to point and laugh and possibly leave her broken. No matter how much she'd tried to deny it, she had feelings for the brooding Slytherin next to her and he could cause her just as much pain as Harry had. Was she willing to let him go, though? It wasn't like Hermione and Malfoy. They were _mated_. Hermione knew that she would be loved, cherished, protected. Ginny did not have that safety with Blaise.

The silence stretched out and Blaise felt himself shift in preparation to stand. It was obvious to him that she was trying to find the words to let him down easy and as he'd never dealt with rejection before, he wasn't of the mind to handle it now. However, the redhead startled him. She rose to her knees and shuffled over to him so that she could settle astride his lap while her small hands moved to cradle his nape.

Warm brown eyes met even darker ones as the petite female studied the aristocratic male before her. Slim fingers trailed light lines over the sensitive flesh located just below his ears and still, she stared at him, studied him, watched him until he was quite sure he'd lose his damned mind. Finally, she deigned to speak but the words she said were the exact opposite of what he'd thought he'd hear.

"I see this going where ever you want it to, Zabini. I've not pressed for more than you are willing to give but it has been your lack of commitment that has kept my legs closed. After all, I've been with one man, only one. I had assumed that he would be my only but life gives fuck all for my assumptions. So, I'm leaving it in your, oh so capable, hands."

Blaise studied the witch on his lap even as his large hands settled at her waist and drew her close enough to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. She'd almost answered him and put the onus of this thing firmly on him. it was almost the perfect Slytherin reply but he could not find fault with her. No, he was the coward here, wasn't he? The fact that she'd moved to straddle him had shown her intentions even if she hadn't outright stated them.

 _'Man up, Zabini!'_

"What I want is exclusivity. I want the right to claim you. I thought it would be obvious to you. I've not been with anyone since we came back from winter break. I've not even looked at another woman in months. This, what we have, is something I feel is worth exploring. However, I am not willing to be tossed about thus the question. If you are leaving it up to me then I want you, Weasley."

His deep voice and serious tone brought a rush of goose flesh to Ginny's pale, freckle kissed, skin. She hadn't thought he wanted anything serious but she was pleased that he did. Hell, she was ecstatic that he did! She'd had months of wanting him, wanting to touch, taste, fondle, grope...HIM. To hear him plainly state his intentions in such a serious manner filled her with a lightness she hadn't experienced since the first time Harry had told her he loved her. It wasn't the same, of course, but for the first time in long months, she felt wanted.

It was a good feeling and so she kissed him, thoroughly. Of course, Blaise soon tugged her closer and slanted his full lips over hers, deepening the kiss with nothing but a simple flick of his agile tongue against the seam of her mouth. He heard a small groan and smirked slightly as he went back to nipping her bottom lip and running his large hands over her pert rear.

This was how Draco and Hermione found them. The pair were so wrapped up in each other that the other couple's presence didn't even register, not until Malfoy interrupted them with a harrumph of sound and Granger released a quiet giggle. Two pairs of brown eyes immediately flew open and darted around looking for the people responsible for breaking their solitude.

Ginny spotted them first but it was Draco who broke the silence, "Red, I take it Blaise has decided to quit being a wanker and ask you out?"

Blaise glared at his best friend before allowing himself a small nod. Ginny, of course, laughed loudly. After all, his discomfort was readily apparent and she was enjoying it, immensely. She enjoyed it even more once Draco and Hermione settled themselves nearby; Draco against a rock and Hermione between his spread legs.

Soon enough, the two young couples began to gossip.


	25. Looney in the Library

**Standard Disclaimer applies~ not mine, JK Rowling is a goddess, I am getting no cash and only this piddly storyline is mine.**

 **A/N: Since I dedicated a chapter to our beloved Blinny, I decided the next one should be for my NottGood. I know I said one chapter today but my brain was unwilling to quit and thus there will be another two because words are love.**

Ginny and Blaise had settled at a table near the restricted section and a door that seemed to go absolutely nowhere at all. Why were they there? Simple, Theo Nott and Luna Lovegood. That pair seemed to be rather put out with one another and anyone who could read facial expressions and body language would have been able to see it. The problem was that neither one of the aforementioned intelligent people were keen on spreading the business around the library and spoke in little more than whispers. What this meant was that Blaise and Ginny had to concentrate even more than usual to figure out exactly what the issue was.

They should have invested in an Extendable Ear like Draco and Hermione.

That intrepid couple was located four cases away, hidden by a wall and pressed deep into vaguely threatening shadows. However, they could at least hear what was being said while snogging and that put them two up on GIn and Blaise. Why were these two couples so interested in the third? Well, the Slytherins had noted that their best mate was being a total arse and the Gryffindors had noted that their friend was not her usual dreamy self, thus the need for an investigation.

This is what was going on...

"I don't understand. We were fine and then suddenly we weren't anymore," Theo interjected. "You've not informed me of what I've done wrong this week and I am tired of trying to figure it out, Luna!"

The blonde in question glanced at the lanky young man across from her with wide eyes which were no longer quite so dreamy and filled with a sparkling sort of anger that was very rarely seen by anyone. However, when she chose to respond, the words were quiet, controlled, even.

"Not everything revolves around you, Theodore."

The tousled young wizard blinked and then blinked again. Luna's voice had been so cold and it bothered the utter piss out of him to hear that tone of voice from HER, especially when it was directed at him. Honestly? If he wasn't at fault then what was her issue? That thought soon tumbled from his mouth even as his long-fingered hand pushed his hair back with a rough motion.

"Then if it's not me, what's your problem? It's been a week, Luna and I am lost. I am not going to walk away nor am I going to continue going back and forth. Either you explain your problem or-"

"Or what Theodore? There is no threat if you preface your statement with the intention of not walking away," Luna huffed. "The fact is that my brain has not been properly settled in months. Maybe I need a shag? Oh, but I forget, you have yet to offer one and I think that if I were to go elsewhere, you'd be offended."

Theo paused, his face flushed and his breath halted. All of this over a lack of sex? Hell, he had been trying to be a good guy! Merlin only knew that it wasn't lack of interest on his part. Hell, it was almost April and he hadn't even looked at another witch since November! Did he get credit for nothing from this witch? And yet, hadn't she inferred that he had nothing to do with her bad mood?

"Luna, if you wanted a shag, you should have just said but I sincerely doubt that this bad mood is because you are suffering a dry spell. Tell me, honestly, what your problem is."

Luna sighed, "Neville asked me out this Saturday and I've told him that I would go."

"What? Why? " Theo immediately demanded.

"Well, you've never really expressed an interest, Theodore. We just come together and drift apart like flotsam. You don't act as if it would matter to you whether I am here or not and I figure it's best to be open to other possibilities."

Well, Theo had not been expecting that. In fact, he had been under the impression that his intentions had been expressed quite plainly. However, he was not going to chase after the blonde witch. If she felt that this was the best course then who was he to deny her? With that thought uppermost, he rose and gave the witch, who would not deign to be his, a stiff bow.

"If that is what you want then who am I to deny you?"

Then, he broke his word and walked away, leaving Luna pale-faced and wide-eyed. The girls immediately moved to go to her while the young men followed Theo from the library with the hopes of catching him.

Hermione asked the question but both Gryffindors wanted to know, "Luna, what happened?"

Luna looked at them with wide blue-gray eyes and murmured an "I don't know. I didn't think he'd be so upset. He and I aren't exclusive, you know. He's never asked."

Ginny took up the conversation, her golden brown gaze focused solely on the pretty blonde before her as she sought to both ease the young woman's mind as well as get to the bottom of whatever had caused the contretemps.

"I know but have you ever told him you were interested?"

Hermione interjected, "And why did you agree to go out with Neville? I know that you don't like him in that capacity."

Luna answered both questions, her voice soft and unsure. "No, Ginny, I never told him. The wrackspurts never allowed me to. Hermione, I just thought there was no reason not to. I mean Neville is a great man and I am tired of being alone."

Ginny shook her head. "Well, you bollocks that up, sure enough. I've never known you to be less than self-confident and neither wrackspurts, boggles nor nargles (or whatever else you've seen that we can't) shouldn't have stopped you from at least asking."

Luna nodded, her eyes sad.

"You're right, Gin. I fucked up."

Hermione, who was lost in thought, finally spoke up. "No," she said contemplatively, "I don't think you have. Sure you handled it wrong and I feel like you should go out with Neville just to see if Theo is the one you truly want but if he is, you need to go after HIM because I just know his pride won't allow him to come after you."

Ginny nodded her agreement. "I agree with Hermione. It's only one date and it's tomorrow. Only forty-eight hours and maybe by then, the boys will have talked Theo around."

"I've seen us together. Later. I know he's the one but..." Luna trailed off for a moment before she offered what all three of them knew to be an excuse. "He never asked."

Her friends could only shake their heads


	26. The Aftermath

**Standard Disclaimer**

 **A/N~ this is the third chapter of the day. *whew* But at least I've spotlighted all three couples. I think we only have a few chapters left and at some point, I am gonna slip a little touch of Haphne in there. *smiles* So now, on with the story. Please let me know what you think.**

Draco and Hermione lay in his bed, bodies slotted together, while hands gently roamed, their voices low, the conversation slightly melancholy. It was Saturday night and, until Hermione had shown up, Blaise and Draco had taken it upon themselves to provide Firewhiskey and an ear to their friend. Theo, for his part, was now passed out cold in the Slytherin common room and Blaise had left, just as soon as his friend was safely conked out.

"Why didn't Theo ask, Draco," Hermione pondered.

"I don't know. He just assumed that she knew, I think. The way she informed him was pretty rough and, well, just like me and Blaise, Theo tends to keep his emotions close to the vest." Draco stroked her back and thought for a moment before breaching the silence, once more. "I mean you and me? What we have is far different and, now, much easier than either Blaise and Ginny or Theo and Luna. We know we are bonded and meant to be. They don't."

The blond felt it as Hermione nodded against his chest. "Yeah, Luna knows she screwed it up. Just like she knows she should have made the first real move if Theo wasn't going to." She shifted and sat up, her hand still on Draco's chest. "I told her to keep her date, you know. I figured that if she wasn't sure of her feelings for Theo, she should keep her engagement."

Draco could only agree and before too long, the conversation had been dropped as the couple reaffirmed their love for one another with kisses, soft caresses and a joining of their bodies. They were lucky and they knew it. It just sucked that their friends couldn't have what they had.

Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. The Great Hall was filled with talk and laughter but as Luna rose from the Ravenclaw table and began her trek toward Theo and the other Slytherins, a rolling silence followed her. Since Theo's back was toward the rest of the Hall, he did not know that the blonde was headed his way and probably would have left had he but known it. As for Draco and Blaise, they saw her but said nothing. Both of them had been apprised of the situation by their respective women and there was no way they were going to stop what was about to unfold.

As Luna reached the trio, she allowed one slim hand to fall upon the lanky young Slytherin's shoulder. The young wizard turned around to see who had accosted him and was met by a searing kiss, one which ended with the girl firmly on his lap. He couldn't, didn't, say anything, only waited with an arched eyebrow. Luna took that moment to break the silence, her soft voice easily heard by everyone who happened to be nearby.

"You never asked but that doesn't matter because I've already seen it. You are meant for me as much as I am meant for you. Now stop being a dick and tell me that you know."

Theo's friends could do nothing but laugh. After all, they'd seen Theo over the long weekend and they knew that the woman on his lap was who the lanky man wanted. It was up to him now to solidify but just to make sure that he did so, Blaise kicked him and underlined it with an arched eyebrow. Draco added his own smirk.

"Did you enjoy your date, Luna?"

"Not really," was her airy reply. "Neville is a good man but he is not my happily ever after. It should have been you."

"I know," Theo concurred. "No more of this running off with other men."

Luna nodded but then repeated her earlier statement. "Now, tell me you know."

Theo smiled, sweetly. "Of course, I know. I was just waiting for you to catch up."

Luna kissed him again and scooted from his lap to the bench and from the bench to her feet. "It is good the cupids aren't out now and I do believe that we won't have any bumble infestations. Meet me in the Room of Requirement after dinner and I will show you why you should have said something much, much sooner."

With that, that blonde Ravenclaw swayed away and Theo turned back to face his friends, a wicked smirk adorning his lean features.

It was Draco who summed it all up, "Well, mate, seems like you have a good night lined up. Just think, you have all day to plan for it."

Later that same evening, Blaise and Ginny curled up together on a blanket near Black Lake, an empty picnic basket set off to the side behind them. A Disillusionment spell, as well as a Silencio, wrapped the couple in privacy as both young people were nude and relaxed, their hands stroking softly over exposed flesh.

Blaise broke the silence with a soft sigh and a kiss to the top of his woman's head. "Ginevra, do you think we are well suited enough to spend our lives together?"

Ginny shifted and raised her head to look into the dark eyes of her significant other. "I think so Blaise but why do you ask?"

"Why do I ask? You are a very intelligent witch. You know what the reason is."

Ginny smiled and rose up to her knees, her pale, lightly freckled skin gleaming against the setting sun. With nary a thought, she straddled the caramel shaded man and leaned down to press a sweet kiss to the fullness of his lips, her straight red hair a curtain to encompass their features.

"It only works if you have a ring for me, love."

He smiled and thrust gently against her, the hardening length of his desire slipping against her core. "Oh, no worries. The ring will be forthcoming."

Soon enough, the pair had reversed positions and Blaise had slipped inside the heated core of his unofficial fiancee'. Neither gave any more thought to anything beyond their little bubble of peace and not long after, the sound of moaning filled the air.

It was a very good night.


	27. The Unexpected

**Standard Disclaimer applies.**

 **A/N~ Oh, we are almost done. *le sigh* I have the sadness because Haphne never fit into the story the way I'd wanted and all I have left is an epilogue. Let me know what you think, okay? Reviews are love.**

It was June fifth and unlike the rest of Hogwarts, Hermione was in a tizzy. Why? Well, it was Draco's birthday and she hadn't had a chance to get him anything. Thank Godric it was a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend. All she had to do was avoid her mate until the evening and she'd be able to surprise him but Draco wasn't about to let that happen because he was...himself.

"Love, don't you want to go to Hogsmeade with me? You know we have Head duties," he pouted.

"I have plans today and will be in Diagon Alley, dear heart. I have to stop by Gringott's and then a few other places. It should only take a few hours.," she responded, her wide brown gaze fixed on his own silvered orbs.

Draco gave her a heart-wrenching pout and then leaned down to nuzzle behind her ear, breathing warm little puffs of air against the sensitive bit of flesh that she'd never known she had until he'd discovered it. Hermione gave a little whimper and slipped her hands through his silken tresses before giving just a small tug.

"I know it's your birthday, love, and I want to do something special for you, please? You can always hang with the guys and make the rounds until I get back as I am taking Luna and Ginny with me for a while."

As he straightened up, she captured his mouth with her own and left behind a lingering kiss, soft and sweet. Once he smiled at her, she turned away, missing the faint frown that replaced his happy expression. By then, Luna and Ginny had come to greet her and all three young women linked arms and walked off, headed for the apparition point, located just inside the Forbidden Forest.

Twenty minutes later, the three young women were in front of Gringotts and Hermione told them what she'd come for.

"Draco is my mate and today is his birthday. I found something especially for him and I have to pick it up from that little jewelry place next to Twilfitt and Tatting's, where I also need to stop to pick up some jade cufflinks I had made for him." By the time she'd finished her reasons for coming to Gringotts, both Luna and Ginny were smiling.

It was then that Hermione noticed the beautiful platinum ring topped by a gorgeous oval shaped peridot and surrounded on either side by small bars of spinel. The combination of bright green and deep maroon drew the eye and caused it to linger there as more and more little details became obvious, like the small snake that traversed from one maroon colored gem to the other.

"Oi, Ginny! What the bloody hell?"

Ginny blushed and smiled, a rather unusual combination for the smart-mouthed witch. When she finally found appropriate words that did not include squealing, she said; "Blaise asked me to marry him back in April. I told him he couldn't properly ask me until he had the ring, which he gave to me last night after we...um...Anyway, obviously, I said yes. He said he chose this because BOTH of them are my birthstone and he thought the colors represented us well."

Hermione and Luna grabbed their friend and smothered her with large, happy hugs all while giggling profusely. Eventually, people began to make rude noises at them as they seemed to be blocking the entire sidewalk and the trio of young witches broke apart.

Luna asked Ginny to come with her to Tilly's tea shop and once the pair were well away, Hermione hurried inside to deal with the Wizarding bank. After all, she couldn't pay for her mate's gifts if she didn't have the galleons to do so and, thanks to the Ministry, she was now more than able to give him what she thought he deserved. Of course, there was a bit of a hoorah as the Goblins had never forgiven her for her part in their dragon escaping but the idea of her removing her gold from their keeping settled most of them right down.

Half an hour later, Hermione was inside the upscale opulence of Twilfitt and Tatting's to complete the purchase of the hand-carved dragon cufflinks she'd mentioned to her friends. The jade was a beautiful shade of green and the detailed work was exquisite enough that she knew he'd love them. She only hoped he liked her next gift. With that thought uppermost, she headed to the small store right next door and stepped inside.

Monsieur LeMarque smiled at her, his dark avaricious eyes agleam. "Ah, Miss Granger. You've returned. Did you want to purchase the ring we'd discussed?

"Yes."

Fifteen minutes later, she was much lighter of pocket but settled at a table with Luna and Ginny as she showed them her purchases. "Do you think he'll like them?"

Luna nodded and turned her attention toward a dark corner, her nose wrinkled with distaste. "Ah, that person over there is infested with Nargles. Not good. Are we ready then?"

Ginny and Hermione could only laugh and toss down a few galleons to pay for their repast before all three young women exited the small tea shop and Apparated to Hogsmeade. Within minutes, the girls had found their significant others and were settled next to them in a booth. Hermione smiled as Draco stood and walked over to go get her a butterbeer. Once he was at the bar, she leaned closer to his friends and whispered, "Promise me you will not laugh."

They never had a chance to ask why as once Draco returned, the young woman stood and waited for him to sit before she settled on his lap and handed him a small velvet box. The two other couples immediately grew silent as the blond wizard glanced at the woman who held his gaze with her own.

"What's this?"

"Well, you marked me, did you not? In the wizarding world, hell in my heart, we are better than married, we just have not exchanged rings. Godric knows, I want to but we both know it isn't needful, right?" Hermione blushed. "Anyway, I love you and this is to mark you as mine to anyone thinking about taking you away." With that final pronouncement, the bushy-haired female popped open the ring box and pulled out a small platinum band flecked with onyx and diamonds and topped with two emerald chips. Those emeralds were the eyes of a snake and she watched as Draco's mouth fell open in a little O of shock.

"Will you wear this for me, Draco?"

His eyes suddenly glistened with unshed tears as he nodded. With a soft smile, she slipped the ring onto his finger and gave him a small kiss.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered.

"And I love you. For always."

With those declarations, Blaise stood up and hopped to the top of their table to announce to all and sundry that Hermione had just proposed to Draco and that he had said yes. More laughter as someone yelled out "Congratulations" and yet another person offered a toast to the consternation of the young gray-eyed male who seemed to be flushed a delightful shade of pink. Hermione could not have been more pleased.

 _"And I still have to give him his cufflinks!'_


	28. Moving On (AKA The Epilogue)

**I wish I owned Harry Potter but I don't. JK Rowling is a goddess. I make absolutely no money from this.**

 **A/N: And so we reach the end. I hope that you enjoyed my little story as much as I enjoyed writing it. To those of you who took this small journey with me, I thank you. To those of you who just found it and came along, I hope you like it. Anyway, let me know what you think because reviews are love.**

They say that a Veela and their mate will be together for an eternity, never to lose sight of one another, never to be parted, just like so many other happily ever after. Though this is a true statement, never let it be said that all would be wine and roses. How could it be? Draco was still an arrogant git, beautiful and snarky, though he loved Granger more than his own life. And Hermione was still a swotty little Know-It-All, though she would never, ever leave him. They fought like cats and dogs and made up with a ferocity unmatched by any hippogriff.

They loved.

When Blaise and Ginny married, as soon as she had graduated from Hogwarts~ which was a year after our dynamic duo~ Ron had been livid. Harry, well Harry had felt a joy that his first love had been blessed with a newer, truer love and he had happily danced at her wedding with his own fiancee', Daphne Greengrass. Ron, of course, had battled about that too but it had done as much good as his fight with Hermione and Ginny. He'd been shut down and forced to endure because he loved his sister, his first love, his brother by war and time. He would never give them up.

And when he tripped and fell over Pansy, five years after the War, he finally understood just why his friends had chosen their mates. He understood because like a flash, he'd fallen and never wanted to get up again if it meant he'd lose his dark-haired woman.

And things were good. Not perfect but good.

Hermione and Draco did not marry until the summer of 2001. The couple had decided to continue their education and earn apprenticeships, Draco in Potions and Hermione in Charms and Transfiguration. Through it all, time spent apart, arguments, studying, whatever, the pair stayed with one another, always loving. Always, no matter the distance, together.

Her ring was in platinum, onyx, and diamond with small rubies, the eyes of a kitten which settled at the apex in its own setting and curled there, amongst the stones. Ginny had adored it, Hermione had cried and Luna had made a comment about how Wrackspurts were never happy. All in all, it had seemed normal, better than normal, and the couple had celebrated their nuptials with laughter and friends and fire whiskey...because, of course, fire whiskey.

As for Theo and Luna? Well, they still aren't married but they are together and expecting. The airy blonde had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would always be hers and a ring made no difference. Though he disagreed, he loved her enough to allow his sprite to maintain her freedom. After all, he knew that eventually, she'd give in. She wore his signet ring, after all. Plus, he had Ginny, Daphne, Pansy, and Hermione whispering in her ear. She'd only hold out for so long.

So, that's it. The original journey was finished and though no one lived happily ever after, they all came close enough as to make no never mind. For those couples who had come through the war and the fighting and the arguments and fear and tears, it was enough. More than enough.

Just remember that life, real life, will always do the unexpected. You just have to reach out, grab it close...and take a bite.


End file.
